Immortal Hearts Can Bleed Too
by SailorSilvanesti
Summary: Post WOTR: Legolas is in Grave Danger...if Aragorn doesn't kill him, the Twins definitely will! Epic Pillow Fights, Random Humour and general fellowficness. Starts serious, but hillarious... One Word: Chicken Feathers! Please R&R! 1st LOTR Fanfic.
1. Prologue

**Immortal Hearts Can Bleed Too...**

**Prologue**

_A moment can be a long time._

_The Firstborn had never really appreciated this sentiment, as a moment was nothing to them, time flew past without heed to their lives; yet this single moment contained all of infinity and none..._

_Liralasse opened her eyes groggily, instantly full of clarity and sorrow as she looked into her twin brother's eyes, as he lay gazing softly at her._

"_I came to say goodbye, my twin," she whispered, barely audible, tears threatening to fall and spoil this precious moment; elves on either side of them leapt from their chairs and cried out in alarm at her words...yet she held no eyes for anyone but her other half._

_He looked sadly back at her, accepting her words, no blame filled his eyes or hurtful words sprang forth from his tongue._

_Legolas entwined his fingers with her own, as always their symbol of 'being whole', he whispered back, "I will miss you, my twin."_

_Before strong arms lifted them together, and held them to a sobbing chest, "Tithen pen, don't leave, stay! Saes!" _

_Their Ada cried in desperation._

_Liralasse smiled upwards at him, then her gaze settled, once again, on her twin,_

"_I will wait for you...in...Valinor...my...brother..."_

_She whispered, quietly, and went still._


	2. Chapter 1: Treesure Me

**Chapter 1: Tree-sure Me...**

Silent eaves of ancient trees interlocked and formed a softly swaying canopy, breezes darting through their leaves and whispering gentle songs to the silent companions.

A strange bunch were they, all of differentiating sizes, heights and levels of wariness as they passed through the quiet, leafy green woodlands that bordered Mirkwood; land of misery and darkness. And yet...

It seemed as if the very fragrance of life, of new-green spring, pervaded the air as the small company rode beneath unfurling leaves as they stretched towards the travelers, sensing hope within them that had never been felt before...in all but one.

One kindred to themselves, high-born Prince of the Realm and child of the trees themselves, remained overcast in shadow, though his face was clear of any emotion. On occasion, he would pause his horse, Arod, and touch a tree in passing -much to the silent indignation of a certain dwarf, who rode behind him.

The silent forest guardians called greeting to their Prince, whispering words -if words they could truly be called- of greeting and joy, yet his heart detected the faintest traces of warning...

Huddled together, four short figures rode on small shaggy steeds, they were dwarfed in between the three noble horses that bore the 'Big People' onwards through this mystical realm; this place enchanted them.

In some ways, it was even more beautiful than Lothlorien had been, and yet...

There was a hidden edge of malice to the trees, a...a feeling of darkness that pervaded every sense and encroached on the mind; although it lessened as they rode onwards, sunlight blessing their path, the feeling was hard to shake.

Merry glanced over to see the former ring-bearer tremble slightly, Sam's hand was instantly upon his shoulder, soft words of comfort spilling from his lips in automatic response to his master's need. From his left, Pippin sighed almost inaudibly as he gazed at the pair, turning to catch Merry's eye; a glimmer of worry thinly veiled behind a shadow of unease played about the once-innocent eyes. Merry sighed, there was naught they could do for poor Mr Frodo until they met with the Elves of this realm, or at least, got out of this dense forest.

Shadowfax, lord of all horses, reared suddenly with a high fear-pitched whinny of warning; Gandalf clung steadfastly to his back, still -somehow- managing to maintain an air of dignified repose despite his position.

"Wha-?" cried a gruff, scandalised voice from in front of them, the hobbits turned as one to gaze at Gimli, now alone upon Arod.

"Where'd the blasted Elf go?" he muttered darkly, voice purposefully louder and deeper than normal, to cover his surprise and disbelief. Of the fair-haired archer, no sign could be seen.

A faint rustle behind them caused the Ranger, hidden deep within the new King, to stir uneasily; it was unusual for Legolas to abandon them...abandon _him_.

He flinched, shudder of horror playing up and down his spine as he saw a gargantuan spider, -a size of which he could only guess at- rush through the trees towards them. It's fangs dripped and oozed a distastefully green venom, pincers clacking together ominously; all eight legs working furiously as it sensed fresh meat in it's vicinity.

Frodo visibly shrank in his saddle, the pony whinnying in fear, as incapable of movement as the hobbit that rode it; clearly, the former ring-bearer's mind was turned back to the horrendous events that took place in Shelob's lair.

Though by all accounts...this spider was far larger!

Even Aragorn could feel his heart pounding painfully in his chest, pulse racing to almost fever-pitch, adrenaline sang sweetly for action whilst his body denied it's siren song.

A hand to his weapon, he found he could not inch it from it's scabbard; something here was different, wrong. What...?

A slow smile crept across his face as he saw what he had missed, even as he heard an indignant dwarf cry out in terror, "Where'd the bloody Elf go? I'll kill 'im if he's left us for spider bait!"

Four arrows protruded from the great creature's forehead, all perfectly aimed into giant dark orbs of eyes, now permanently blinded. As he watched, a fifth joined their ranks, taking out another eye as the Spider howled it's rage.

Half-blinded, it swept great legs towards the company, attempting to sense their location through touch alone. It did not get the chance.

For, as the creature stepped forth, mere inches from the first hobbit...a lithe figure appeared to fall from the trees onto the creature itself, landing in the centre of it's back. A flash of silver, as knife-blades gleamed in the waning daylight, and the twin blades -gifts from the twins, Elladan & Elrohir- sank deep within the creature's flesh.

Coming free with a great, and quite disgusting-sounding 'Plop!', (-which could almost have been humorous in another circumstance); great gouts of green, slimy blood bled from the creature in waves and it jerked spasmodically. A marionette with its strings cut.

Carefully, the Elven Prince alighted from the creature, seeming to not even notice how it spasmed beneath him in it's final throes of life. Vivid green blood coated his body in a delicate slash, a few tiny spatters covered the impassive face, not that the Elf seemed too hurried in removing it...

A surprised silence was broken by a loud, "Bloody Elf! What did you think you were_ doing_? You could have killed yourself!"

Gimli attempted to dismount Arod, landing in an undignified heap on his backside, the leaf-strewn floor of the forest rose up swiftly to meet him. Throwing a dangerous glare at the hobbits -all of whom stifled giggles- he stood with as much dignity as physically possible and bustled towards the, still motionless, Elf.

He was met half-way by Aragorn, his concern evident on the weathered brow; longer legs [they didn't call him 'Strider' for nothing] powered forwards and he reached the Elf first.

"Legolas, _mellon nin_, are you alright?" he asked, instinctively searching his friend's face for any trace of pain, a withheld injury, something other than the blank mask that stared back at him.

He nearly cried in relief as the Prince-ling sighed, an air of regret tempered the sound as clear blue eyes casually glanced over his slender shoulder at the dead behemoth of a spider.

"I had hoped them all gone, Estel," he whispered softly, casually using Aragorn's elven name out of habit. "When The Ring was destroyed, we had hoped...the shadow would be lifted, and yet..."

The warm voice trailed into cold, frosty territory and the Ranger felt his heart drop slightly; noticing the look of defeat that stole the glimmer of hope from his life-long friend's eyes.

He longed to be able to change what had come to pass, to hand back the innocence afforded to all elf-lings upon birth, give him another chance to be the free, happy spirit that had helped care for him all those years ago...

He knew it would never happen, and sighed, drawing the attention of his almost-patient; Legolas smiled reassuringly, and for a moment...Aragorn wondered whether the Elf saw within him -the now-King of Gondor-, the same pouting human-child from Imladris, the one called Estel...with whom he had had to play many-a-game of 'Catch & Bathe'...

Estel's face darkened when he had smiled, which was a strange and puzzling reaction for the Prince to comprehend. Normally, this action invoked a smile in reciprocation, but now...

He sighed in his mind, _humans! _They were near impossible to comprehend!

Leaning slightly to one side, he saw Mithrandir, upon the mareas known as Shadowfax, leaning forwards to casually converse with four terrified-looking Perrien. Hobbits, they styled themselves.

A hard, calloused hand grasped his wrist and shook him slightly, "What do you think you're doin', lad? Standing there smiling like an idiot! What did you think you wer-...?"

Angrily, he jerked from the dwarf's harsh grasp and muttered something dark in Elvish, Estel looked slightly shocked...as did Mithrandir, he found to his delight.

"Would you have preferred I let it eat you, Master Dwarf?" he asked, testily, "If so, I am sure I can find another about this woods, willing to risk eating Dwarf-meat."

It was at that exact moment that the Dwarf in question turned a _brilliant_ shade of red, at his temple, a vein throbbed fierce to bursting point. "WHAT?" He roared.

The Hobbits had cautiously observed their exchange and began to settle, feeling the familiar rhythms of an elf-dwarf argument coming on.

"Risk? What's this about _risk_? Dwarf-meat is as tasty as any other! I'll have you know!" he cried, allowing himself to be assisted onto Arod again; Legolas vaulted, deftly, before him and Aragorn mounted Hasufel, where the horse stood waiting.

Gandalf -Mithrandir- rolled his eyes skywards and smiled, the Hobbits beamed, giggling in appreciation for each well-delivered verbal blow and parry the pair exchanged.

All too soon, they reached the heart of Mirkwood.

Dismounting quickly, Legolas lead the way into the strangely silent centre of a vast group of immense trees, of a girth that suggested they had been growing even _before_ the Valar had made the world!

His excitement was palatable, Mr Frodo must have felt it too, because he turned those soft blue eyes onto Sam and smiled, "You and Elves, Sam..."

The smile curling his lips betrayed the sting of the taunt, and he laughed, joined swiftly by Merry and Pippin. Awed gasps escaped from Hobbit lips as they drew nearer to the main centre of Mirkwood, flets aligned the trees at such great heights it almost took Elven sight just to notice they existed!

From the ground, a large entrance protruded, it stared down into darkness, a yawning maw in the earth and yet it beckoned...

An Elvan ear twitched sub-consciously, and Aragorn had to suppress a snort -remembering the _many_ times when Legolas himself had vehemently protested such occurrences- sharp, sea-blue eyes turned swiftly to the right, a strange look of longing and relief swept over the delicate features for a moment before the meaning became apparent.

Two tall, lithe figures stepped from behind a tree, a beautiful elleth with hair like honey cascaded down her back -looking, for all the world, as if a younger, more joyful version of Galadriel had appeared from nowhere. Her gown was a flowing, wispy arraignment of pure white and soft blue, a crown of silver leaves anointed her brow regally, although it looked as though it had been hastily shoved on by another, most likely the striking elf behind her.

Tall, muscular and yet lithe in the way of all elves, he stepped quickly forwards, an arm upon the elleth's back, guiding her for some purpose, long dark strands of hair fell to his shoulders and his green eyes flashed up once to meet his [_much_] younger brother, who remained seated on the Rohirim steed.

Aragorn smiled, trying to work out exactly _which_ of his Elven brothers stood before him...

The silver bands upon their brows glinted with pale evening light as it pierced the heart of the darkness that beheld much of Mirkwood forest.

Atheriel floated upon pure air, as she moved towards him, surpassing even the Valar-gifted grace of all elves; Elladan's guiding hand upon her back, they strode to meet him, and Legolas suppressed a shudder of pure joy.

They were safe!

Aragorn snorted, in much the same manner as a horse, and Legolas -ever the regal prince- resisted the near-overwhelming urge to turn around and smite him upside the head; Gimli seemed dumbstruck, another elf whose beauty rivalled his beloved 'Lady of the Woods', Mithrandir called out a greeting which the approaching pair politely responded to.

Their excited eyes, deep blue ocean and cool forest green, never leaving his own for an instant.

Atheriel was first, she wrapped her arms firmly about his neck and provided him with a kiss that might have killed lesser men, for surely no mortal would survive something as sweet as this?

The bulge between them was round and hard, a constant reminder...

She stepped back, eyes shining, "_I missed you_," she whispered, he nodded his acquiescence, not trusting in words alone. And then...

Legolas, Prince of the Mirkwood Realm, for all his extensive Valar-gifted hearing abilities...was still unable to discern whether it was the unflappable, elf-besotted Sam or silent, stoic Gimli who fell off their steed first...as he stepped forwards and passionately kissed his other Beloved...

Elladan...

"Wha-?" the Dwarf's mouth flapped open uselessly, like a beached fish; Aragorn decided to put an end to his confusion, -aye, and that of the gaping hobbits, too- and explained.

"Elves do not discern by gender, _mellon nin_, it is common for them to have a bond with another two or even three, male and female. Why, Glorfindel himself, the Balrog-Slayer, is closely bonded with the Lord Celeborne and Lady Galadriel, some believe that was the reason for their twin daughters being born with different colour hair and eyes!"

Aragorn laughed, staring directly at the stunned and mildly disgusted Gimli, who sighed and shook his head.

"Elves! Why can't they just act normal for once, instead of all this prancing about and muddling up important issues and affairs...?" The Dwarf loudly lamented, a gleam of humour showing through the almost completely concealing hair of his beard.

Legolas and Elladan, -and aye, Atheriel too, for she had rejoined them,- broke apart to stare in confusion and amusement at the Dwarf, who blushed and looked away.

Atheriel turned and showed the reason for her earlier caution, a full, rounded belly extended from her midriff; she rubbed a hand absent mindedly over it's swollen surface with love and life shining on her face. Elladan stood behind her, a hand grasping her shoulder in support and affection, she snatched at her other beloved's hand, grasping the slender archer's fingers under her own and drawing them to press against the bulge.

Elven senses immediately picked up the tiny pumping of not one, but two heartbeats, Legolas gazed upwards in shocked surprise, "Twins?" he whispered, almost reverently.

With a graceful movement, her ringlets of honey-coloured hair fell forwards, obscuring her face for a second, as she nodded...

Maybe he had not heard right. Maybe..uh..._Twins?_

Twins?

In the moment it took for him to digest this information, the Hobbits had leapt from their steeds and run towards the three elves; their graceful lower limbs were soon obscured by moving bodies. Sam stood shyly to one side of Atheriel, bashfully eyeing her, she smiled and motioned for him to come forwards; his hand contacted her flesh, the twins stirred and he gasped in pleasant surprise.

Frodo smiled in impish joy, knowing that soon such a delight would be for Sam and Rosie, when they returned to the Shire; Merry and Pippin, unabashed, asked all kinds of lengthy questions.

From nowhere in particular came the question, "But...who's the father?" Pippin looked shocked that the words had tumbled from his mouth, the Hobbits were silent, but the Elves laughed, as did Gandalf; Aragorn found he couldn't help himself and joined in.

"PIPPIN!" A loud voice yelled from where it sat, stranded on 'the bloody horse again', then he too burst into gales of laughter for no apparent reason.

Merry looked mildly peeved, "Pippin, that's not the sort of thing you ask a lady! And why are you all laughing?"

This incited further hilarity, until the 'Big Folk' calmed down enough to tell them. Surprisingly, all three Elves swiftly crouched down to their level and smiled, Atheriel spoke gently.

"One of each, _mellon nin_, but both will be loved by all, for they are _our_ joy, no elf-ling can truly be owned by any one parent."

She sighed and Legolas found himself rolling his eyes -a habit which his tutor, Erestor had forbade under the threat of impending death- as Elladan contributed,

"It takes at least three to handle an elf-ling, anyway!"

Aragorn sighed from atop Hasufel, also rolling his eyes.

Somewhere deep in Imladris -called Rivendell, by mortals- Lord Erestor felt a disturbance in the force...


	3. Chapter 2: Heavens Fall

**Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of it's characters...if I did, why would Legolas be on that Quest? He'd be here, with me, doing lots of chores...shirtless...*EPIC GRIN***

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**Chapter 2: Heavens Fall...**

Elladan spoke in soft hushed tones, whispering into his beloved's ear; Mithrandir could not truly tell what was being said -even Maia had their limits- though a distinctly uneasy feeling settled within his stomach.

Atheriel and Elladan led the way to the great expanse of cave, it's maw open as if to swallow the travellers whole, the Elves bade the human, Maia and Hobbits dismount. Legolas eventually assisting a protesting Gimli to the ground, "I'm fine, I tell yo-_oooooh_-ah! See? I didn't 'fall off the bloody horse' it was a controlled glide!"

The indignant Dwarf continued to bicker until they were well within the massive cave-entrance; Elladan lit a torch and led the way, Atheriel content to lean back against Legolas as they walked, heading the group of weary travellers into the secret chambers beneath.

All at once, the passage curved and drew upwards, opening into a marble corridor, pillars intermingled with the trees that had intertwined themselves into the building's structure; the Hobbits gasped in wonder as they gazed at the magnificent sight of Mirkwood's Royal Hall.

Hidden entrances and exits ran through tunnels under the forest floor, each carefully guarded by those of the royal garrison so as to avoid attack, it was truly magnificent; the companions walked on further, pausing only to turn towards a set of massive, ornately-carve wooden doors.

A faint glow emitted under the doorway from beyond, and a deep voice conferred with another, higher voice, over something undefined.

Aragorn noticed Legolas's fists were clenched and wondered at it, never had he been to Mirkwood, nor met the King that lay within these halls...but he had heard stories...the stuff of nightmares.

Elladan playfully tweaked a strand of the Prince's golden hair,

"Here," he said, producing a silver circlet from apparently nowhere, "here, this is yours. _If you put it on, it might placate him...a little...maybe_. O_r... you can use it as a weapon, if need be ...I'm just saying..._" He finished in an almost inaudible [to human ears] whisper.

A hint of mirth, within green eyes, almost smothered by the seriousness of his expression.

Legolas took the circlet of silver leaves, identical to those worn by Elladan and Atheriel, and twirled it on his finger; apparently deep in thought.

Eventually, he sighed and moved it towards his head, "If I must," he decreed, rolling his eyes...

The winds of Fate shifted once more and Erestor tensed. A twinge in his mind,

_There it was again...!_

An adviser bowed hastily and left the Elven-King's side, Thranduil -in full ceremonial garb of deep red and rich gold- laced his fingers before him; considering the group. His eyes lingered on each of the remaining members of the Fellowship for only a moment, politely addressing each member in a companionable fashion. And yet...there was always an air about him that whispered to be wary.

Deep eyes of wood-brown caressed each member in turn, but glazed over at the sight of the Prince, averting his gaze to the next in line as if offended.

Gandalf felt a deep rumbling of foreboding deep within his chest, he knew of their past and remembered the frightened elf-ling who had torn away into the night, seeking the shelter and comfort of trees to avoid his father's clutches.

The terror-stricken child he had rescued all those years ago and brought to Imladris, to heal.

He was saved the need for further thought as two voices erupted from a side-room, growing steadily nearer with each loud footstep.

"**Lego**-_**laaaaaaaaaaaaasssssssssssssss**_!" Two, joyful, voices decreed at the top of their lungs, as the identical ellith ran into the room; the only difference between the two fair-haired elf-lings was the colour of their outfits. One wore a deep crimson dress and the other, a deep, crushed purple.

The Prince opened his arms, knelt swiftly to their level and smiled, "Naanine! Naatirri!" he cried in excitement, addressing first the one in purple, then her crimson-clad twin.

"_GWADOR_!" they shouted excitedly, each into one of his ears, Aragorn winced for his friend...

"Finally!" A relieved cry came from behind the girls as a circlet of gold and silver leaves was dropped on each head, Naanine's were the leaves of the oak tree, to symbolize her as the elder twin, whilst Naatirri's was of the Elm tree's leaves, as she was the younger twin.

A weary, distressed and worn-looking elleth [if there _was_ such a thing...] stood behind the girls, a hand on each shoulder; she looked at Legolas gratefully, "Oh, sire, _hannon le_! I haven't been able to tell those two apart since you left!"

The twins looked mischievously at one another; a small smile crept at the edges of his mouth as the Ranger remembered how the twins had -encouraged by Elladan, in the true fashion of all twins- caused utter chaos at a meeting of the Eldar leaders in Lothlorien, by dumping one of Lord Elrond's own potions onto every guest.

Although, he couldn't suppress a smirk, it _had_ been amusing to see the effect of the dye...

For weeks after the event, Aragorn found it impossible to look at his _adar_ without bursting into gales of laughter at his stern expression hopelessly clashing with a vibrantly green pair of eyebrows, not to mention his _hair_...

Thranduil cleared his throat and the girls pouted, and then ran off with their distressed minder giving chase. _A losing battle_, mused the King.

His guests were seated, and they each took turns to relay their journey, each giving a slightly different account on the quest for the destruction of the One Ring; since it had tumbled into the fiery abyss of Mount Doom, shadows had lifted from the lands of man, but not yet Mirkwood...

Noticing one of the Halflings yawning, and blinking sleepily, he ordered a nearby servant to show them outside and have rooms made for them; as his...son, turned to leave with the others -by that accursed dwarf, no less!- he called in high, clear _elvan_ for the Prince to remain.

Steadfastly, Atheriel and Elladan remained with him as the last of the remaining Fellowship drained from the room, that Valar-cursed human looking back with sympathy in his eyes. Thranduil smirked, pitying the Prince for punishment that is rightfully his?

Humans were strange creatures.

"What d'you suppose that was about?" wondered Sam, aloud. Frodo saw Aragorn tense with worry and Gandalf frown, casting glances at the now-sealed doors.

"_I don't like it_," he overheard Strider whisper to the Wizard, who gripped his staff even tighter, as if ready for action. They stiffened and waited.

"So...you have returned, alive..._ion_?" he spat the last word as if it tasted foul upon his tongue, the face -so like his own and yet so like...hers_...theirs_- gazed back impassively; eyes as blue as the deepest ocean never wavering, drawing strength from the pair beside him.

They, too, glared upwards.

"Why, pray tell, have you failed me in this regard?" he queried, swirling a goblet of wine in his left hand and contemplating its movements, "I set you the simplest of tasks, and yet you seek to defy me. Why?"

At this, Atheriel looked confused, Elladan whispered something into her pointed ear and she looked horrified, drawing herself up to her full height, she threw such a look of absolute hatred at him...if looks were capable of killing, he would have vaporised then and there.

"You would ask this of you own son? Your _ion_?" she cried, indignantly.

"Yes, for he is not my son, he has failed me. For that, I claim the right to punish him as I see fit!" crowed the elven-king in delight; oh, how he hated that child, always so quiet, so perfect, so _infuriatingly __good_ at everything he touched!

_He_ should be the one lying dead, not...not...

He turned cold eyes back on this imposter, "I entrusted you to go to Rivendell to seek your end, not bring about glory and honour in destroying the One Ring. Why have you disobeyed me?"

Hate-filled silence echoed between them, rolling like storm clouds, neither spoke.

"I charge you, Legolas, with the one task that will please me most of all," For a moment, the King almost imagined hope growing in those love-starved eyes, before he continued, "Find a suitable task, something obviously suicidal and take it upon yourself to see that you _do not return_."

There was something icy and cold within his words, something that shook loose the hatred within the Prince; eyes filling with sorrow, he gazed directly into the King's eyes and whispered,

"_Will this make you happy, fath-... Sire?_"

Elladan, child of Rivendell, had paled to almost transparent, the 'supportive' grip he bestowed upon Legolas's arm was now ineffective as it was the only thing holding _him_ upright; Atheriel looked utterly horrified. Legolas merely met his gaze, broken, inside.

Unable to take the sadness and pain within the blue orbs any longer, Thranduil silently nodded him acquiescence.

"Then you will -..." Legolas began, but never finished, as Atheriel screamed, "...live in abject misery for the rest of your long life, _'Sire'_, for I will not stand by and watch you send your _son_," she stressed the word, "to Death!"

She snatched the circlet off her head, mirrored by Elladan, and eventually Legolas; throwing them down at the King's feet, they turned and strode from the room before the metal had even settled to the ground.

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_**Elvish Used:**_

_**~Mellon-nin: My Friend**_

_**~Ada/Adar: Dad, Daddy, Father, etc.**_

_**~Tithen Pen/Tithen Penne: Little One/Little Ones**_

_**~Nanneth: Mum, Mother, Mummy, etc.**_

_**~Gwador: Brother**_

_**~Muindor: Sister**_

_**~Ernil: Prince [Tithen Ernil: Princeling!^^]**_

_**~Melleth: Love/Beloved [Melleth-nin: My Love/Beloved]**_

_**~Ellon: Male Elf**_

_**~Ellith: Female Elf**_

_**~Edain/Edan: Man/Humans**_

_**~Perrien: Hobbits**_

_**~Perion: Half-son**_

_**~Ion: Son**_

_**~Saes: Please**_

_**~Hannon le: Thank you**_

_**~Havo Dad: Kill Him/Stop Him**_

_**~Mae Govannon: Greeting...**_


	4. Chapter 3: When Lightning Trembles

**Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of it's characters...if I did, why would Legolas be on that Quest? He'd be here, with me, doing lots of chores...shirtless...*EPIC GRIN***

**Chapter 3: When Lightning Trembles...**

Anger flushed the face of the highly pregnant elleth as she strode from the room, all but knocking Halflings out of her way without undue care; silver tears of hatred and rage coursed down her cheeks. Elladan all but dragged a pale and reluctant Prince from the room, disappearing into the folds of shadow that lined the passage in which they came.

There was silence.

It took a moment for Aragorn to register the lack of adornment all three had since entering the chamber; cautiously glancing in the door, he noticed three glimmers of silver that lay at the King's feet. The circlets, proclamations of position and power, lay discarded as if nothing.

Thranduil laughed like a creature whose mind has gone, wine sloshing in its goblet; delighting in the pain he had inflicted.

Aragorn thought seriously about striking him, Gandalf rested a hand on his shoulder and pulled him from the room to stare at four Hobbits and a confused Dwarf who had not understood a word of the loud argument beforehand; as the bandied words had been flung about in Elvish.

Quickly, he surmised the argument and supplied what he had seen, to the horror of his five companions, even Mithrandir looked grave.

Frodo, quick as ever, asked the important question, "But...Why? Why does he hate Legolas so much?"

Gandalf called them to him, telling them to be seated and listen; his eyes were closed for a very long time before he spoke, "...What do you know of the Mirkwood Royal Family...?"

Great and Powerful Maia that he was, the tale he now had to tell sent a shudder of horror and despair racing up his spine, a glimmer of a tear faded from his eyes as he drew a deep breath...

"_Long, long ago...at the beginning of the Second-Age, after the Return of Lord Glorfindel..._-you all know about the Balrog, then?" he paused and asked, noting the slight nod of acquiescence he drew from those around him, and continued.

"_Not long after his return -for which the Lord Celeborne and Lady Galadriel were most grateful to the Valar for- the Lady of the Woods announced she was to bear twins...twins whose children would help shape this world..._

_Now the pronouncement of __**any**__ Eldar children was to be celebrated, for it is a rare thing; but here, the Lady Galadriel foretold of more children to come...a blessing if any had ever been given!_

_When it came time, the Great Lady gifted her race with two of the most beautiful ellith this World had ever seen._

_One captured the grace of her mother, and seemed to outshine the sun with her inner radiance, her pale golden hair like none ever seen before or...-at the time-...since. Her eyes were of the softest, ocean blue..._Ah, I can see you know where I am going with this, yes, the first twin was Legolas's mother."

He paused and awaited the gasp of surprise, which followed as he had predicted, and continued.

"_Nimwen, beauty of the dawn, was first-born and carried within her the love of the trees, earth and sky; such as no other had ever seen..._

_The second twin...ah, now she was as gifted as her sister, you may know her __**child**__ very well,_" even as Gandalf stressed the word, he felt their confusion, but it would have to wait...for a tale was being renewed...

"_Celebrian, a child born with inexplicably long wavy hair, dark as Night's cloak...eyes of softest sky blue...and within her, she carried the mantle of the stars...which shone about her. Gracing her every movement in starlight..._

_The pair were truly beautiful._

_Long did they grow up in Lothlorien, a place of peace and tranquillity, knowing nothing of the dangers that the world of mortals faced until the Great War..._

_Both had barely reached their majority -_about five thousand years," he added to bewildered Hobbits, "_When it occurred..._

_It was on the battlefield -for the pair were great warriors in their own right, having been trained for strength and endurance, as is asked of all elf-lings- that they saw their futures, both came at the fall of another..._

_It was in the heat of battle..._

_Celebrian heard a strangled cry and broke away from her sister to attend the trembling form of another elf, who cradled his dead wife in his arms...Lord Elrond. His first wife, Nirralassena, had only recently given birth to their first-born sons -_yes, sons, twins in fact..." he smirked to Aragorn.

"_Against his wishes, she had partaken in the battle, for the avowed purpose of 'Giving their sons a Future', a wise and noble goal for any parent...but it came at too high a cost. _

_Celebrian heard the young _-yes, he was young at some point, Master Took-" he countered, avoiding any unnecessary interruptions.

"-_Lord Elrond cry out as the poisoned shaft buried deep in her -his wife's- breast, she died in his arms, crying out she loved him and begging the Valar to care for her boys...Elladan and Elrohir..._

_He very nearly Faded on the spot, when Celebrian -Valar knows how- managed to shake some sense into him and drag his behind back to the battle, where he would be most instrumental. _

_As history dictates..._

"_Nimwen, meanwhile, had found herself alone and decided to cut her way across the swarthy expanse of Dark Servants to reach a pinioned elf; looking for all the world, as if he was going to pass out in sheer terror...for he was younger than she, not yet at his majority._

_Orcs, and indeed, __pieces__ of Orcs, flew through the air in all directions as she moved to him...finding his back pressed against her own, they fought._

_It was only when the great armies stilled, when the Dark Lord Sauron was finally confronted, did they sink to their knees in exhaustion._

_Between gasps, Nimwen asked after the young Elf's name...on the verge of receiving it when he cried out in horror!_

_King Oropher of Greenwood the Great...had fallen to Sauron's sword._

_Though she would refute it later, Nimwen actually flinched when the elf cried out..."ADA!"_

_The horror in his voice..._

****

* * *

_**Elvish Used:**_

_**~Mellon-nin: My Friend**_

_**~Ada/Adar: Dad, Daddy, Father, etc.**_

_**~Tithen Pen/Tithen Penne: Little One/Little Ones**_

_**~Nanneth: Mum, Mother, Mummy, etc.**_

_**~Gwador: Brother**_

_**~Muindor: Sister**_

_**~Ernil: Prince [Tithen Ernil: Princeling!^^]**_

_**~Melleth: Love/Beloved [Melleth-nin: My Love/Beloved]**_

_**~Ellon: Male Elf**_

_**~Ellith: Female Elf**_

_**~Edain/Edan: Man/Humans ~*THANKS TO ALL MY REVIEWERS!^^ *MWAH!* *~**_

_**~Perrien: Hobbits**_

_**~Perion: Half-son**_

_**~Ion: Son**_

_**~Saes: Please**_

_**~Hannon le: Thank you**_

_**~Havo Dad: Kill Him/Stop Him**_

_**~Mae Govannon: Greeting...**_


	5. Chapter 4: When the Bough Breaks

**Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of it's characters...if I did, why would Legolas be on that Quest? He'd be here, with me, doing lots of chores...shirtless...*EPIC GRIN***

****** Chapter 4: When the Bough Breaks...**

_When the battle was over, and the five armies disbanded for their own realms, Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborne were anxious to know of their daughters' -and Lord Glorfindel's- fates._

_All three were fine, completely exhausted -even by elven standards-, but unscathed...physically._

_Both had found themselves attached to those they had fought beside on the battlefield, and begged leave to see them again. Sparingly, they were given leave from Lothlorien._

_Nimwen and Celebrian took off in differing directions, one to Greenwood, the other, Imladris._

_Separated completely, for the first time in their lives..._

_Lady Celebrian was greeted with great ceremony by the Elves of Rivendell, who praised her courage and beauty, but her primary concern was for it's ruler. Lord Elrond._

_He had not come out to meet her, nor extend his hospitality, and she grew curious..._

_It was that night she met the twins for the first time, and her heart melted with joy, as it had the moment she laid eyes on their father..._

_Her future was decided, from that moment on, and she sought her parent's [all three of them] permission to bind to him..._

_Whereas the Lady Nimwen, arriving in Greenwood as the first pale shadows began to creep over its emerald leaves, received such fanfare, she feared she would never find one elf in the throng of those around her!_

_Half-remembered faces from battle swirled about her, -as the majority of warriors had come from Greenwood- and she strove to find the one that mattered...despairing, until the moment she was brought before the new King..._

_Tired and worn, despite his 'tender age', Thranduil Oropherion sat upon the throne and his pallid expression lit up with hope as he saw her face; it was then she knew deep in her soul, he was who she would spend her immortal life with..._

_It seemed the Lords Glorfindel and Celeborne, and Lady Galadriel were utterly __besieged__ with impassioned pleas from their children, begging permission [though technically, none was needed] to be 'bonded', there and then to their new-found loves. _

_Unable to refuse their children anything, they agreed, a smile playing about the Lady's lips as she remembered a mirror-vision seen so long ago...and she thought of her grand-children to come._

_It was just under five-thousand years ago, today, that both of the Lady's children sent missives home reporting they were expecting their first children. Great celebrations were held everywhere!_

_Especially since it was believed both carried twins, as had their mother._

_When it finally came time, both found themselves together in Rivendell, side by side as their perfect infants were brought into the world -never had I seen Lord Elrond so frantic, nor Thranduil so nervous! _

_Both would have willingly faced a Troll or shred the walls of Minas Tirith with their bare hands given the choice, waiting did not sit well with either. Yet they sat, absolutely still and silent, clasping their Bonds' hands in their own, taking care to share the pain -_Yes Master Frodo?" Gandalf questioned, with a raised eyebrow.

"Uh, what do you mean, 'Share the pain', Gandalf?" he asked, cautiously; to which the Wizard laughed, softly.

"Ah, a strange gift and curse of the Elves, it seems, Bonded-elves can feel the pain or emotions of the others.

Even draw it into themselves to give the others peace or clarity at a time of great need; in some cases, where the bond is strong, they can manifest another's wounds..."

He paused, a faint smirk upon wise, old lips.

"I must say, Lord Elrond nearly had the first heart attack of the Eldar when he saw Elladan and Atheriel staggering into the Healing Halls with bloody gashes across their shoulders and right thighs...yet no trace of the actual injury, for their clothing was not torn above the wounds...merely, their flesh having appeared to open of it's own accord...

"When he worked out what had happened..." Gandalf shuddered in mild fear.

"I would not have been Legolas for all the Dowinian Wine in Rivendell -and it is most excellent-, when he finally staggered into Imladris two days later, with the remainder of his hunting party. The half concerned /half angry parental tirade he received from the Elf Lord was legendary...I tell you this first-hand,- though I was not present at the time- as I heard it all the way from Lothlorien!

"...To be fair, it wasn't really the Prince's fault that his party had been ambushed by Orcs...but I don't think Elrond would have listened to that argument...

Apparently, even Glorfindel didn't approach him for two days after-wards, as he was still in a bad mood..."

There was a pause.

"Now where was I? Oh yes...

"_Legolas was first, swiftly followed by his sister, Liralasse; both held the beauty and radiance of their mother, but the slightest tinge of their father foreshadowed their features. The infants radiated life, and their parents were swift in naming them, Green-Leaf, for their son and their daughter, Golden-Leaflet. New-life..._

_Arwen arrived almost the same time as the Elvan-Prince did, she and her brother, Alondwin -close behind her- glowed with the intensity of a dimmed star; rivalling their cousin's sunlit emanations, all four infants sent beams of suppressed light skittering about the Chambers._

_Such love and care had never been shown for elf-lings, or so it had seemed, all others paled in comparison when it was held to the Royal example...Legolas, Liralasse, Arwen and Alondwin were shown every consideration possible._

_Nearing their first thousand-five-hundred-and-forty-fifth year -_about six, on a human standard_- the "Golden Twins" as they were known, discovered they were to be elder siblings. _

_I remember their faces when they were told...they were so excited, they literally began to glow with such fervour everyone present had to avert their eyes, or risk being blinded!_

_Naanine and Naatirri, twins, they took after their father in many respects and did not share the same intense glow of their elder siblings -to said sibling's mild disappointment. On the other hand, they were excruciatingly excited, for this was their first contact with an infant, and now, here were two to play with!_

_The Queen laughed at the pair, careful to allow them access to the twins at all points, making certain they understood how to care for them, a tinge of doubt hovering in her mind...feeling this was important somehow..._

_She dismissed the notion, feeling mildly absurd, and did not mention the dread that crept from the shadows, to her husband. Slowly, Greenwood the Great was falling to shadow, becoming Mirkwood..._

_Alondwin was dead._

_After being viciously attacked by a band of Human Traders, the elf-ling had passed into a world of his own; one where even his own twin could not reach him, and died...in his parent's arms._

_Elladan and Elrohir tried to comfort their foster-mother and younger sister as best they could, whilst Lord Elrond called for aid from Lothlorien and the Greenwood._

_It came too late._

_In a fit of despair, Celebrian had taken leave of her senses and Imladris; running into the forests in pure grief, she began to fade...even as the rough hands of Human Traders grasped her._

_To save her twin's life, Nimwen plunged, waist-deep into the surge of men from the hills, and lay about her body with her sword. Two timid elf-lings by her side, struck out with the small daggers she had made them wear for protection, their innocent eyes widening in horror as the pain-filled faces of dying mortals contorted in their vision._

_Celebrian was dragged home, carried mostly by her sister, with a Golden Twin on either side, each carrying some part of her. All elves are strong, even the children, so they kept up their steady pace, long past a mortal breaking point, until Imladris was in view..._

_Though her body was healed, her mind could not be repaired, and she finally gave in to the call of the sea. Watching the forlorn faces of her husband, daughter, sister, sons -for she always considered them hers-, parents and sister-children, as they fare-welled her at the Gray Havens. _

_She would see them again, in Valinor._

_Turning to gaze off the prow of the small craft, she gazed to the horizon, to Valinor. _

_To Alondwin..._

_With Celebrian gone, her family began to fade slightly, it was only the remaining elf-lings that captured their attention and affections for long enough to stir them from grief._

_Legolas and Liralasse had begun their warrior training in the now-styled, Mirkwood, their father and instructors having great praise for their skills._

_Arwen was watched constantly, yet withdrew to her own world, one even Elladan and Elrohir could not coax her from..._

_Nimwen decided to reward her children for the diligence and skill they showed in their training, by taking them hunting. Alone._

_It was on this fine day, in a world of not-quite-diminished gold and green leaves, that tragedy struck; suddenly and without warning._

_Nimwen sensed something wrong, first. Yet was unable to tell what, exactly, and that was her -_their_ – downfall, ultimately._

_An evil stirred within the trees, they whispered to their Queen to run, to grab the Prince and Princess and flee for their lives; for they were highly Beloved of the Trees, having the power to speak to, command and wield them as a weapon._

_Calling sharply, but softly to her children, Nimwen grabbed a hand of each in her own and pulled them towards the path they had come from...only to find her way blocked._

_One of the largest spiders that had ever been sighted in Mirkwood had blocked their path. Leering, misshapen faces watched from the dark, as twenty-or-so Orcs stood forth; poisoned blades gleaming wickedly in the waning day's light._

"_Nanneth (Mother)?" the pair had asked, half in question, the other in fear; she drew them close and closed her eyes, praying to the Valar for their survival._

_Her sword was drawn, the miniature bows they had been given were strung taut, an arrow targeting the nearest assailants before she could even whisper her plan. They were only children, even to the eyes of man, and yet they were willing to die to defend one another...her, their Nanneth...and it touched her deeply. _

_The cold eyes surrounding her invoked such rage and wrath in her heart, that she struggled to contain it..._

_Not yet! She told herself, Not __Yet!_

"_Now!" she cried, feeling the jarring impact of her sword meeting -and cleaving- skull, before drawing it out and turning to the next closest attacker; meanwhile, the air sang with small arrows, continuously finding their mark in the Orcs surrounding._

_Killing silently, but deadly._

_It was not enough._

_The further the enemy was pressed back, the wider their cruel grins, but...what was she forgetti-... ?_

_NO!_

_The spider dashed forwards, intent upon burying it's stinger in her body, when..._

_

* * *

____**Elvish Used:**_

_**~Mellon-nin: My Friend**_

_**~Ada/Adar: Dad, Daddy, Father, etc.**_

_**~Tithen Pen/Tithen Penne: Little One/Little Ones**_

_**~Nanneth: Mum, Mother, Mummy, etc.**_

_**~Gwador: Brother**_

_**~Muindor: Sister**_

_**~Ernil: Prince [Tithen Ernil: Princeling!^^]**_

_**~Melleth: Love/Beloved [Melleth-nin: My Love/Beloved]**_

_**~Ellon: Male Elf**_

_**~Ellith: Female Elf**_

_**~Edain/Edan: Man/Humans**_

_**~Perrien: Hobbits**_

_**~Perion: Half-son**_

_**~Ion: Son**_

_**~Saes: Please**_

_**~Hannon le: Thank you**_

_**~Havo Dad: Kill Him/Stop Him**_

_**~Mae Govannon: Greeting...**_


	6. Chapter 5: Valar Be DAMNED!

**Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of it's characters...if I did, why would Legolas be on that Quest? He'd be here, with me, doing lots of chores...shirtless...*EPIC GRIN*****

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**

Chapter 5: Valar be _Damned!_

"_The shaft struck home, the gargantuan creature crumpled to the ground, all eight legs snapping grotesquely beneath it; eyes clouding over..._

_Nimwen turned to find her eldest, Legolas, with an empty bow and triumphant expression, though clouded with grim determination. _

_Her heart nearly gave out at the shock, behind him, an Orc had raised it's sword, and brought it plunging down into the child's flesh..._

_It should have killed him instantly, but, as he struggled to his feet and slashed his small blade across the Orc's stomach [spilling it's contents upon the forest floor], his mother saw it had just barely missed his heart. The blade coming in too high below the shoulder blade...and it gave her hope._

_Liralasse had an arrow embedded in her side. It hurt, obviously, for the strain on her face was telling...her young, once-innocent face...they should never have had to see this!_

_Nimwen wept silently in her mind._

"_Time slowed, indefinitely, as the gleaming blade of an Orc-sword pierced the soft flesh of her stomach from behind, she looked down in confusion, vaguely wondering how it had gotten there...when a sharp tug from behind drew the offending object from her body._

_She heard two small voices cry out in fear, "_Nanneth!_"_

"_They ran to her, fear and pain mixed with terrible grief, blood stained nearly every inch of her precious elf-lings, and she felt them grasp her body carefully but fiercely...as if afraid to let go..._

_An Orc snarled, "Leave them, they're dying, there's no more fun to be had here."_

_So saying, he turned and made to leave, before a whimper escaped -involuntarily, mind you- from the Elven-Princess's lips as a movement caused one of the many arrows within her body to wrench painfully sideways...he turned back and snarled._

_A flash of recognition ran through his face...and that of the Elvan-Queen's mind..._

"_Sultiven..." she breathed, remembering the Elf he had been, her eyes pleaded with him for a moment, before..._

"_Always Remember, my tithen penne, your Nanneth loves you..." Nimwen whispered and closed her eyes as the Elf-turned-Orc brought his sword hilt smashing down on each of their heads in turn. They fought the pain for a moment before succumbing to unconsciousness._

"_Thank...you..." Nimwen rasped softly, before collapsing to the ground._

_Borne back to the Royal Halls on horseback, the Queen, Prince and Princess were swiftly directed to the Healing Halls, still deep in the throes of unknowing oblivion._

_For the best, of course, as they would have been screaming in agony otherwise..._

_Lord Elrond was fetched from Rivendell, he came as swift as he was able with his sons -Arwen being left in the care of Erestor and Glorfindel- to tend the dying Royals._

_Thranduil knew, he read it in the blood-drained faces of the Lord of Imladris and his sons, the moment they laid eyes on his wife and eldest children. Carefully, he juggled the squirming Naatirri in his arms, where she screamed for her mother._

_Naanine rested in the arms of her nursemaid -Dwilana- behind him, he turned swiftly and passed her twin to the elleth. Feeling the strain of fear and worry, the agony of his soul and concern for them all..._

_His heart had turned cold, as he's sat by his wife, holding her hand for the last time as she'd gone still...quiet, refused to draw breath a moment longer._

_The Golden Twins, his eldest, though gravely injured, lay side-by-side, fingers entwined in comfort, white knuckles showing their blatant determination to hold on to life. _

_Elladan and Elrohir sat on either side of the bed, stroking their golden hair and singing to the broken elf-lings, bandages covered almost every inch of Liralasse, and blood still soaked the bandages covering the great wound...s, in her brother's shoulder...and side...and leg..and- it seemed too much to bear!_

_How could this have happened?_

_In Greenwood?_

_There were no answers here..._

_A moment can be a long time._

_The Firstborn had never really appreciated this sentiment, as a moment was nothing to them, time flew past without heed to their lives; yet this single moment contained all of infinity and none..._

_Liralasse opened her eyes groggily, instantly full of clarity and sorrow as she looked into her twin brother's eyes, he lay gazing softly at her._

"_I came to say goodbye, my twin," she whispered, barely audible, tears threatening to fall and spoil this precious moment; elves on either side of them leapt from their chairs and cried out in alarm at her words...yet she held no eyes for anyone but her other half._

_He looked sadly back at her, accepting her words, no blame filled his eyes or hurtful words sprang forth from his tongue._

_Legolas entwined his fingers with her own, as always their symbol of 'being whole', he whispered back, "I will miss you, my twin."_

_Before strong arms lifted them together, and held them to a sobbing chest, "Tithen pen, don't leave, stay! Saes!" _

_Their Ada cried in desperation._

_Liralasse smiled upwards at him, then her gaze settled, once again, on her twin,_

"_I will wait for you...in...Valinor...my...brother..."_

_She whispered, quietly, and went still._

"_One child remained, it was a miracle of the Valar that he had survived at all, and yet, the King's heart was frozen; he could not feel the love he had once felt for this being...his own son!_

_Couldn't even look at the heart-broken child without seeing her, -their- faces._

_Not understanding why his Ada had withdrawn from him, the Prince tried his best to please him, becoming the best archer in all of Mirkwood in only a year-and-a-half, despite his age!_

_He was so good with his sword, it had bored him, so he took to daggers and other craft, exceeding all expectations, _-at the human equivalent of seven_!_

_And yet..._

_Finally, unable to cope with all his grief, the King, mighty Thranduil himself, became slightly unhinged. Channelling it into a fierce rage and hatred that burned into the tiny corners of his soul; directing it at the Prince-ling..._

_Naanine and Naatirri, still infants, adored their brother like no other; and were always puzzled when he was unable to pick them up sometimes, or flinched if they grabbed his arm or leg..._

_In truth, the cuts, welts and bruises that patterned his small, yet lithe and strong body could not possibly allow him to pick them up...nor could his almost-constantly broken ribs._

"_It was on one of many trips to Lothlorien, when a concerned Lady Galadriel contacted me, Lord Celeborne beside her, they bid me go and wait at the outskirts of Mirkwood, being highly specific to the area and time._

_I did as I was bid...unquestioningly, and find -even now- I continuously thank the Valar I heeded them!_

"_Unable to take any more of the harsh, deliberately hurtful and accusatory words that fell from the King's lips, all somehow pinioning the Queen and Princess's deaths on him...the survivor..._

_-Which hurt even more than the blades, whips and fists that usually drove him to the ground..._

_Legolas ran from the Palace, taking to the trees, who knew and loved the Prince-ling, as they had the Queen; they fought back the enraged King and offered the child a path to safety through their branches...to where I was waiting._

"_I will admit...a battered, bleeding elf-ling was not quite what I had expected...but I caught the child as he tumbled from the tree-tops, dazed and confused, he flinched instinctively and recoiled from me...__**Me**__!_

_Which both surprised and frightened me, for I was Mithrandir! All the elf-lings awaited my return each year, in much the same way you Hobbits do...and yet, it was not until I noted the bruises that marred every inch of visible flesh, that I realised I must take him from there._

"_Shadowfax bore us to Lothlorien, but an insistent Haldir turned us from it's borders -I must admit, I was frightfully fond of the thought of turning him into a toad, at that point- for the Lady Galadriel had asked the Lord of the Eagles, Gwaidhir, to bear us to Rivendell._

_Elrond snatched him from my arms before we had even landed, and nearly dropped him in surprise and horror, at the extent of his injuries, old and new alike._

_Arwen grabbed the Prince's hand as he was carried by, and I do not pretend to understand what passed between them, but Legolas opened his eyes and looked at her._

_In much the same manner as he and Liralasse, and indeed Arwen and Alondwin, had gazed at one another...as two parts of a whole connecting._

"_He lived under the roof of Imladris for many thousands of years, until even the barest trace of scars long-since inflicted, were banished from all but the most trained elven-sight._

"_Glorfindel, in particular, took an interest in what he deemed to be 'One of the Most Promising Warriors-to-be in Millenia' and took the young Prince on, seeing to his weapons training personally. _

_Although, it could also be their kin-closeness, though no-one could be certain...it was widely believed that Nimwen had been his child...making Legolas his blood grandchild..._

"_Where was I? Oh yes! Woe betide anyone who stands between either of them in battle!_

I_ certainly wouldn't, for I believe it would tax the extolled patience of the Valar if they had to send me back...again..._

"_In truth, he took a liking to the child, as did all who met him. He had a smile that could ensnare your heart at twenty paces, and the uncanny ability to appear innocent even when he was standing in the midst of Utter Chaos! Usually his own doing..._

_It was his eyes, he could do this..._look_...made his eyes go all round, soft...and..._" Gandalf sighed, finding it difficult to describe the look of 'pure innocence' that had any and all who met the Elven-Prince under it's sway, purging any ideals of his implication or guilt from their minds...

Long had the young princeling used it upon Mithrandir, himself, not that he would tell the Hobbits that...

For it had worked...

"Ah, I see he hasn't done such a thing recently, though I notice -from your expression- Aragorn, that you know of it...and know of it's deadly efficiency!" the Wizard laughed loudly, as the Ranger blushed a most undignified crimson.

Gimli looked intrigued, Merry and Pippin puzzled...Frodo smiled wanly and Sam concealed his amusement behind a hand.

Gandalf coughed discreetly into a hand and began the tale anew,

"_Arwen and he were inseparable, twins, they even had their own language!_

_In as much as Elladan and Elrohir had their own version of Elvish and had passed it on...'Twin-speak' they called it...and it scared the hell out of everyone in Rivendell!_

_For when they spoke it, no one knew what they were planning, and you can be certain, with Elladan and Elrohir -curse those blasted mischief-makers!- as their mentors, they were _always_ planning something..._

_Or daring one another to do something..._

_Take the time Elrohir dared Legolas to steal my staff, for example...I won't go into detail, but I will say...it took nearly a full twelve-month for Lord Elrond's eyebrows to grow back to full parental-fury expressing capacity!_

_Or the time Arwen set a trap for Erestor and Glorfindel...and blamed it on her elder brothers...who then decided to get their revenge on the star-twins while they slept._

"_Admittedly, it was quite hilarious when Arwen and Legolas walked into the dining room sporting hair of unnatural shades of purple and bright green, respectively..."_

Gandalf smiled, reflectively, then his countenance darkened.

"_They were content being the star-twins of Imladris _-Yes, Pippin, I'll explain in a moment.

_As you all know, Arwen Undomniel, is the Evenstar of her people, blessed with the grace and power of the celestial being's light. As was her brother, Alondwin._

_Legolas and Liralasse were called the Golden twins, for much the same reason; their pure inner light shining with the force, beauty and power of the sun, as if bestowed by the Valar themselves!_

_They were strong like no other, in their magic. Together...together they were strong...but where one remains..._

_The pair, each in their own right, were the light of their respective peoples, for Mirkwood did love their Prince and would have done anything -_anything!-_ to help if he had just told someone...but that is in the past._

_As Arwen is the Evenstar, Legolas is the Dawnstar, both give hope and light to their people in these troubled times...but darkness encroached on their Realm, and the people of Mirkwood needed their hope back._

"_And the King had lied to them..._

_**Elvish Used:**_

_**~Mellon-nin: My Friend**_

_**~Ada/Adar: Dad, Daddy, Father, etc.**_

_**~Tithen Pen/Tithen Penne: Little One/Little Ones**_

_**~Nanneth: Mum, Mother, Mummy, etc.**_

_**~Gwador: Brother**_

_**~Muindor: Sister**_

_**~Ernil: Prince [Tithen Ernil: Princeling!^^]**_

_**~Melleth: Love/Beloved [Melleth-nin: My Love/Beloved]**_

_**~Ellon: Male Elf**_

_**~Ellith: Female Elf**_

_**~Edain/Edan: Man/Humans**_

_**~Perrien: Hobbits**_

_**~Perion: Half-son**_

_**~Ion: Son**_

_**~Saes: Please**_

_**~Hannon le: Thank you**_

_**~Havo Dad: Kill Him/Stop Him**_

_**~Mae Govannon: Greeting...**_


	7. Chapter 6: Stars Reflect Our Sorrows

**Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of it's characters...if I did, why would Legolas be on that Quest? He'd be here, with me, doing lots of chores...shirtless...*EPIC GRIN*****

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Chapter 6: Stars Reflect Our Sorrows

Aragorn held up a hand for silence, a deep sense of foreboding swelling within his chest, though not entirely for the tale being told, as he knew the next part...but rather, it felt as if something terrible was occurring.

Silently, to the surprise of his companions, he strode off -as he was wont to do with a name like 'Strider'- into the gloom; darkness nipping at his heels.

Gandalf cocked his head, testing the atmosphere and satisfied himself that Aragorn could deal with...whatever it was that was bothering him. He swiftly drew the attention of the remaining fellowship, deep voice trembling almost inaudibly as he spoke.

"_Thranduil was infuriated that the Prince had 'escaped' his wrath, a righteous punishment, and he could see no wrong with his own behaviour...yet the people of Mirkwood, who loved that 'Valar-cursed child' grew concerned when they did not see him flitting about the tree-tops at dawn, nor did his beautiful voice ring out in song..._

_Eventually, the mad-King's mind eventually warped the situation into a perverse plan for stealing the 'brat' back and inflicting his rage upon the unsuspecting Elf-Lord, the one who sought -_in the King's twisted mind_- to usurp Thranduil's rule! _

"It was at this point, many centuries later, that the Lady Galadriel, herself, realised he had gone completely insane, and set forth from Lothlorien to Rivendell...too late..." Gandalf sighed deeply and shook his head. "Too Late..."

"_Mirkwood grew incensed upon hearing the King's heart-felt announcement, Rivendell had stolen their precious Prince, -the Dawnstar of their Peoples!- in an act of vengeance...though for what act, was never specified..._

_And yet, even when their fury was brimming full, he bade them wait...begged them not to move too swiftly, so as not to 'enrage' the Imladrians into any rash actions -when in truth he only wanted to allow the grievous injuries he had inflicted on the child to fade...lest he be caught in his own lie..._

_And so it was, that nearly three-thousand years later, Mirkwood invaded Imladris, capturing rather than killing all those who opposed them. For even in fury they could not comprehend having their Elven brethren's blood upon their hands, staining their souls for eternity without end..._

"_Arwen and Legolas were in the gardens at the time, both near full-grown -_not unlike human youths, of twenty or so-_ in physical maturity, but still children at heart. Attempting to hide from the twins, Elladan and Elrohir after taking the opportunity to slip 'something extra' into their wine goblets the previous evening..._

_The twins had awoken wearing nothing but one of Arwen's delectable silken dresses, each...and tied to the gates of Imladris...and since freeing themselves, were on the warpath!_

"_Yes, our young prince was rather...how shall we say...imaginative? When it came to such matters..._

"_Mirkwood warriors of both genders -for elves do not differentiate or discriminate a warrior's worth on gender alone- burst through said gates and took out the main sentries, all warriors who stood on their path and several peaceful citizens, in the process. All lay dazed and bound upon the forest floor._

_It was Thranduil himself who found Legolas, and surprised the Prince by slamming his hilt upon his head from behind, with the full-force of his Valar-given strength. Hoping to kill him, and blame Elrond for the incident...but it did not work, the Prince righted himself and turned to face the King._

_Arwen lunged forwards, towards Thranduil's unguarded back, and slammed her fists home; he staggered as slender hands impacted his spine. Only to turn and strike her across her beautiful face; seconds later, the Evenstar flew from him and slammed into a nearby treetrunk._

_She fell limp at its base, face obscured by a veil of dark locks._

_In the mere second it took for shock to form across Legolas's fe__atures, his father took advantage and struck him across the face with enough force behind the blow, behind the madness-strengthened fist...to send him after Arwen._

"_Evenstar and Dawnstar...both lay crumpled, side-by-side, as a gloating Elven-King stood above their insensate forms. A sneer of contempt across his face..._

_It was then the Valar sent them hope, Lord Glorfindel rounded a corner and threw himself at Thranduil, after hearing the star-twin's cries; fury dictating every movement..._

_He drove the King back, back and even further than that, until they reached the steps of the Great Hall itself, where the Lord Erestor promptly turned and slammed the weighty tome in his arms, over Thranduil's head. Laughing as the King hit the ground, indelicately, face first._

"_Elrond had raced ahead of the triumphant pa__ir, throwing dignity and caution to the wind as he skidded to a halt within the cool glades of the gardens...Horror marring pale, delicate features permanently, as he saw his children...all of them..._

_Elrohir cradled Arwen to his breast and sobbed, rocking forward-and-back in grief, she was so still...Elladan clasped Legolas tightly to his chest and wept. So still..._

_He nearly could not believe it!_

_Glorfindel appeared beside him, frozen, and Erestor very nearly rammed into the back of him as he came tearing into the glade, all sense of decorum forgotten..._

_Mirkwood warriors appeared from nowhere and everywhere, surrounding them in half-hearted attempts to 'capture' the Imladrians, but weapons lowered in shocked, speechless grief._

_Tentatively, Lord Elrond moved to his children and knelt, placing a hand on each of the star-twins. Reeling backwards in surprise, eyes flickering open and gasping shallowly, as his spiritual guidance to the Halls of Mandos was refuted, by two strong, angry and determined spirits, fighting for their very lives in a way mere mortals could not._

_The pair surged bolt upright, eyes wide, fingers intertwined. Alive._

_They were alive..._

_Trussed like a chicken for slaughter...or however that human euphemism went...Thranduil awoke to an attentive audience. Say...all of Mirkwood, and Imladris...and his thrice-damned son!_

_Insanity lent the King strength, and he burst from the ropes binding him as if were merely string...roaring his fury at the world..._

_Elrond calmly took two steps forward, and punched him directly in the face. The King's head reeled backwards, yet the Lord of Imladris was incensed beyond reasoning, not that his cool facade would show this..._

_This elf, __King or no__, had burst into _his_ lands, attacked _his_ children and was _really_ starting to __get on his nerves__!_

_Those around paused, holding their collective breaths, until Thranduil fell to his knees in a dazed state. Elves from all kingdoms cheered their delight, whether it was considered treasonous to do so, or not!_

_'Tell them the truth behind your lies,' Elrond hissed in his ear, and the King...to the shock of those around him, meekly complied._

"_Galadriel arrived in time to see the, now-'legendary' strike, of her bond-son and smiled secretly to herself, pleased somewhat perversely that the King had finally received his 'dues'..._

_Her bond, Glorfindel slid up behind her, whispering in her ear and drawing her from the crowd to those who urgently required her expertise..._

_Grasped firmly by one of the Elder-Twins each, Arwen and Legolas swayed slightly, pale but determined at the edge of the group, looking for all the world as if they desperately wanted to leap upon Thranduil and throttle him...barehanded...or pass out at his feet. _

_The latter looking to be a great deal more plausible than the former...only pure will-power allowed them to maintain their feet and wits._

"_Before their bodies could fail them completely, Galadriel bade the Elder-Twins to drag her grandchildren into the Healing Halls, where she could attend to them; vaguely half-listening to the bitter-sweet sound of the dirty truth being aired for all to see..._

"_Legolas stayed on in Imladris, from that moment, until an even greater need of his people drove him to Mirkwood; a sacrifice that was not made lightly...and yet had wondrous results...as you could see from the joy he brought to Atheriel and Elladan, just by breathing!"_

A mischevious smile played about the Maia's lips, mouth opened to speak again; when the heart-wrenching, strangled cry of their Ranger-Companion, pierced the still-air with fear-inducing clarity.

Just one word.

"_**NO**_!"

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_**Elvish Used:**_

_**~Mellon-nin: My Friend**_

_**~Ada/Adar: Dad, Daddy, Father, etc.**_

_**~Tithen Pen/Tithen Penne: Little One/Little Ones**_

_**~Nanneth: Mum, Mother, Mummy, etc.**_

_**~Gwador: Brother**_

_**~Muindor: Sister**_

_**~Ernil: Prince [Tithen Ernil: Princeling!^^]**_

_**~Melleth: Love/Beloved [Melleth-nin: My Love/Beloved]**_

_**~Ellon: Male Elf**_

_**~Ellith: Female Elf**_

_**~Edain/Edan: Man/Humans**_

_**~Perrien: Hobbits**_

_**~Perion: Half-son**_

_**~Ion: Son**_

_**~Saes: Please**_

_**~Hannon le: Thank you**_

_**~Havo Dad: Kill Him/Stop Him**_

_**~Mae Govannon: Greeting...**_


	8. Ch 7: An Ending of All Things Beautiful

**Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of it's characters...if I did, why would Legolas be on that Quest? He'd be here, with me, doing lots of chores...shirtless...*EPIC GRIN*****

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Chapter 7: An Ending of All Things Beautiful...

Trembling, emotions that had no name twisted and writhed within his body, his voice spent after using it to call, just once, his grief to the skies... and the Valar ...and _whoever else_ may be listening...

Aragorn no longer cared...as he gazed down upon the beautiful...horrible...heart-rending scene before him...

Swift as a pack of predators, the Fellowship raced to the Ranger's cry...and stopped dead, breath catching in their lungs, simultaneous to the stilling of their fiercely racing hearts.

Six van-braces lay scattered around the them, torn off carelessly in anger and despair, three lithe bodies, one full and ripe with life-to-be, lay side-by-side...

Pale sunlight, honey-gold and rich chocolate hair fell about the bodies carelessly, unfettered by the commonplace braids that marked their status as warriors of the realm...Faces calm, yet worryingly slack in expression...and their eyes...horror of horrors, three sets of elven eyes were closed!

Slivers of fear shot down the Dwarf's spine, Hobbits shuddering with unbidden tears beside him, as they took in the forms of supposedly-immortal beauty...

In betwixt the two _ellon_, Atheriel lay still, a hand clasping that of either beside her, blood drenching her sleeves and arms. Silver-tinged pools of liquid crimson coursed their way from deep, though slender, gashes upon six wrists...silver tears, long since dried, had left trails of misery on all three faces...

It was heart-rending. To see immortal innocence broken in such a manner, as if discarded toys, when the child is gone...

Three Elves, two he had known for most of his life, were fading before him; natural glow diminishing before their stunned eyes as the blood seeped across the forest floor to the Companions, Aragorn hung his head in defeat.

Frodo shuddered and moved back towards Gandalf...shaking with fear.

Mithrandir, as he was known, was completely shocked, unable to do or say anything to make the situation better...these elf-lings -for he still saw within them the elf-children he had bounced upon his knees thousands of years ago- were slowly draining away before his eyes...and he could not save them.

A sudden inspiration struck him.

_He_ couldn't save them, but there existed one who _could_...

He turned about and gave Aragorn a smack about the head, awakening the Ranger from his stupor, "Well? What are you waiting for? Get some Athaelas!"

Shocked into action, Aragorn tore strips off his own tunic and bound the slashes firmly, after dipping the strips within the pot of steaming Athaelas-water; fresh-boiled by the Wizard's staff.

Elladan actually _hissed_ in pain, Atheriel mumbled and Legolas swung out instinctively, catching him a glancing blow...healing Elves was a dangerous business!

They held their bodies rigidly, tensed in agony and surprise as their unconscious minds detected an intruder in their grief...all the while, Aragorn whispered to them in Elvish.

Sometimes nonsense, other times quiet versions of pranks and deeds that had caused great stirs in Rivendell...trying desperately to reach them.

It was no small matter to draw them from the darkness, and yet, binding their wounds would mean naught if they continued to fade; strong elven hearts needed to re-awaken with fierce intensity in order to save their lives. And those who were not yet...not yet...bo-

Aragorn had an idea.

Loudly, in Elvish, he began to mention how sad it was that certain _selfish_ elves had forfeited the lives of their children-to-be, how it was a terrible shame that he would never know the children...and if their parents hadn't been such cowar-..._acks_!

Legolas shot bolt upright at the waist and clasped a pale hand around 'his' _Estel_'sthroat,weakenedgrip still managing to near-choke the poor human, before the Prince recognised the face and relaxed...though not entirely releasing his grip...

"_Care to repeat that last bit?_" he asked in Elven, acid dripping from his tone, releasing his 'little brother' carefully; Aragorn smiled ruefully, keeping the laughter buried deep within, and frowned as his _gwador_ spoke again.

"_Why could you not just let us die?_" Eyes that beheld a shattered soul within their ocean-blue depths turned to gaze into his own, storm-cloud grey orbs of sight. He, Gandalf...and Frodo, who spoke Elvish well-enough...gasped; the sound stirring the others.

Elladan twitched and rolled upright, grabbing heavily on the Prince, nearly sending the pair tumbling down again...whilst Atheriel lay, delicately, on the leaves that were strewn across the floor. Silently contemplating the distinctive '_not-dead-ness_' [if there were such a word, -if not she had just invented it-, for no other word or phrase quite fit this moment as well...] of her current situation.

At the moment they had pledged an end to their supposedly 'unending years', the three had felt only the horrific shame, betrayal, fear and the overwhelmingly crushing weight of earlier words...to know one's own father wished you dead for a death..._deaths_... that could not be prevented...that were_ not your fault_...

_No, they had been his fault, if he had only fought a little harder, seen that orc coming, taken the blade... _

_He should be the one lying dead, not Liralasse, not Nanneth... if only he..._

That was about the point where Atheriel had slapped him and shouted "It _wasn't_ your fault! He was _Wrong_! He was _WRONG_!"

Elladan had laid a tender hand on his shoulder as Atheriel had sobbed her anguish into his chest, unable to move...the Prince felt hollow, broken...and they knew it.

They shared his pain, it was their own, and they would follow him to a Realm where such emotions were no longer...the Halls of Mandos.

Atheriel had felt a twinge of remorse for the unborn twins, but reasoned that they would live within the Halls as well; Elladan was livid with rage and full of sympathy for his/their _melleth..._the utter pain and devastation within their Bond was terrible to behold...

They would do anything for him, and he in return, would do anything for them...such is the bond of Lifemates, as elves were wont to call themselves...and now they pledged to follow him to a place no other First-born had voluntarily entered...

Van-braces were torn from slender wrists, no longer required to function as wrist-guards against arrow flets, they were thrown hither and thither; their owners uncaring...

Legolas had drawn one of his legendary blades, the one Elladan, himself, had given the Prince [as a set of two, from Elrohir and himself; they were as identical, beautiful and deadly, as the twins themselves...yet somehow the prince told them apart...something about 'blade-strokes'...?].

Without hesitation, he ran the gleaming metal across the tender creamy skin of his right wrist, watching in grim, perverse, satisfaction as silver-tinged, crimson-blood spilled forth from the wound; swiftly transferring it to the other hand and faltering...unable to keep a firm grip on the knife...

Atheriel took it from him, with a final glance to ascertain this was what he wanted, she ran it over his other wrist, the slit identical to the first; then took it to her own flesh, requiring Elladan's steady-handed assistance before the end.

In turn, Legolas took the blade back and opened Elladan's final wrist...then flung the blade as far as they were able and tugged at his hair, swiftly pulling free the stifling intricacies of his warrior-braids...wanting to die free and unpledged to any Lord...or King.

Elladan carefully undid Atheriel's and she allowed him to, settling back on the ground as the former-Imladrian unbound his own hair; he settled to her left, arm curling about her waist and seeking her own.

Finally, the Prince turned his gaze from the stars above to his _melleth_, sitting back beside them; his love for the pair shone through in his gaze, and quickly gave each a parting kiss, before lying to Atheriel's right and shutting his eyes...

Alive.

What a strange state to be in, considering all they wished was the sweet relief of death...but it was not to be, it seemed, as Aragorn and Gandalf were livid with rage and concern; three elves lay listless upon the ground, not exactly willing to move since they were already there...

"There you are!" A sharp voice broke the silence that had fallen over the companions, startling them all; someone laughed, rather forcefully, as if shoving the unwanted sound from their throat.

Six horses appeared, colours ranging from brilliant white, through grey, deep bay, shining buckskin and deep crimson, to midnight black; astride them were the Lady Galadriel, Lord Celeborne, Lord Glorfindel, Lord Elrond, Elrohir...and...Lord Erestor?

-Never before had any present seen the Elf outside of his precious Imladris, where he usually toiled in the Library, copying scrolls and archiving texts...-

"I know, it's a shock to see me abroad, young Estel, but I felt I was needed. There was a disturbance in the force..." the Librarian added cryptically; Aragorn rolled his eyes and Erestor sat bolt upright on the grey filly, loudly decreeing,

"There it is again!"

Atheriel lent her tired, aching, heavy body against the Great Lady Galadriel of Lothlorien, as the brilliant white steed beneath the pair trotted along on a steady gait, taking care not to cause undue movement.

Elrond had Elladan firmly around the waist and was on the verge of spurring the crimson creature onwards with haste as he saw how his son faded; his other son, Elrohir, continuously calling, cajoling and pleading with his twin to open his eyes and look at him. To no avail.

Although Aragorn had wished to carry the Prince, or at the very least, ride with his 'elder brother' before him, it was Lord Glorfindel who challenged this right. Riding now upon a horse of blackest night and great beauty, it moved swiftly but surely, sparing the riders any undue hardship.

Giving the Balrog-slayer plenty of opportunity to whisper into the ear of the determinedly-conscious Princeling, who lolled against the Lord's body, only staying upon the horse by the strong arm of his -generally- ever-present body-guard/father-figure and long-time protector.

Glorfindel sighed, frustration and anger buried beneath a pervading note of sadness, why was Thranduil so stubborn? Especially when the elf-ling was just as stubborn as he?

Answers were in short supply as they sped to the halls of Mirkwood...

Glowing, '_dark-light-and-full-flailing-outfit-type_ Fury' beheld Galadriel -as Frodo had seen once before- as she marched into the halls and blew open the Throne Room doors with a flick of the wrist.

"How Dare You, Thranduil Oropherion!

He is your son and you deny his right?

Long had I foreseen this doom, as had you, where I sought to forestall its passing, you urged it on!

You sicken me! You-..."

Thranduil forestalled her impassioned speech with a flick of the wrist, glancing up from his contemplation of the half-filled wine goblet in his hand,

"The brat is dead then?" he asked, eagerly.

It was at that moment, he saw the three elven bodies being carried into the room, in the arms of the Lords, Celeborne, Glorfindel and Elrond...the last of which turned, placed his unconscious son within his twin's arms and strode up towards the King with a bloody, single-minded purpose...

History has a habit of repeating itself...

Even so, Galadriel was not in any in hurry to forestall this particular ..._'doom'_...Thranduil deserved it far more than anything she could do...

The bone-jarring crunch as the Imladrian Lord's fist connected home sent a shock wave through the room, Gandalf had no doubt a mortal would have been dead long ago, about the point where Elrond had turned his gaze upon them...

Yet Thranduil stood upright, swaying slightly; the Hobbits all attempted to make themselves smaller than usual and hide behind Gimli...who currently stood behind Aragorn...who was trying to inconspicuously fade in with the room's decor.

...From behind Gandalf...

Galadriel and Elrond each extended a hand, as did Gandalf; a ring of Power glimmered on each, as they invoked the Valar for aid...

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_**Elvish Used:**_

_**~Mellon-nin: My Friend**_

_**~Ada/Adar: Dad, Daddy, Father, etc.**_

_**~Tithen Pen/Tithen Penne: Little One/Little Ones**_

_**~Nanneth: Mum, Mother, Mummy, etc.**_

_**~Gwador: Brother**_

_**~Muindor: Sister**_

_**~Ernil: Prince [Tithen Ernil: Princeling!^^]**_

_**~Melleth: Love/Beloved [Melleth-nin: My Love/Beloved]**_

_**~Ellon: Male Elf**_

_**~Ellith: Female Elf**_

_**~Edain/Edan: Man/Humans**_

_**~Perrien: Hobbits**_

_**~Perion: Half-son**_

_**~Ion: Son**_

_**~Saes: Please**_

_**~Hannon le: Thank you**_

_**~Havo Dad: Kill Him/Stop Him**_

_**~Mae Govannon: Greeting...**_


	9. Chapter 8: Autumn Screams it's Anguish

**Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of it's characters...if I did, why would Legolas be on that Quest? He'd be here, with me, doing lots of chores...shirtless...*EPIC GRIN*****

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Chapter 8: Autumn Screams Its Anguish, Summer Weeps Tears of Blood...

Never, in all their long lives, had they witnessed such a battle...nor would they ever again...for the Ring-Bearers now fought against the Dark Lord...or his re-incarnate, in King Thranduil, the Vessel of Sauron.

It laughed in the face of their efforts and sneered as they backed away, motioning for the mortals and elves alike to move, swiftly, before...before what exactly, Frodo didn't want to find out...and so, ran.

With the lingering flash of silver light being overpowered by dark flames burned in his mind, Aragorn rode hard, Hasufel feeling his master's urgency and responding with great speed; they rode in staggered grouping, those bearing limp elven passengers slower, clasping tightly to them.

None awoke, which settled fear deep within his heart; it may already be too late...

Imladris, called Rivendell by mortals- was grand and welcoming, even in these dire circumstances.

Swiftly, the 'elf-lings' -as the Eldar were referring to them- , were borne inside, to the Halls of Healing; where their fates would be decided...

Leaving five confused mortals in the wake of such frenzied activity...

Aragorn, known as Strider, known as _Estel_, the Hope of Mankind...paced restlessly, up and down and back again, feeling supremely helpless in this situation. Despite his legendary healing skills, combined with the even greater powers of Lord Elrond, they were unable to do anything of use.

It was entirely up to them to live...or die.

It was their choice.

And Aragorn feared the outcome...

Lady Galadriel and the Lords Celeborne and Glorfindel were seated beside the motionless forms on the 'specialised' infirmary beds -whose mattress' stone-like quality was famed, used only for those who needed, shall we say..._persuading_...

Aragorn had once had to suffer his foster-father's ire upon such a bed, after he and Legolas had come back wounded from a small skirmish on the edges of Bree...after an encounter with a _very_ angry Inn-Keeper's wife...

He shuddered involuntarily at the memory, swiftly burying it _deep_ within his subconscious...

Surprisingly, it seemed that intense will-power and concentration could heal a severe wound in mere days, or so it had seemed at the time, as he had longed to escape the harsh accommodations...

On the positive side, Estel had been certain -at the time- that he had discovered the secret behind the Elves' near-mythical rapid-healing ability...

Smiling softly at the strange memory, he lost all sense of pretence and sank into a nearby chair with a sigh, half-embittered sadness and longing for times past, the other, sheer exhaustion. Elrohir had moved from the doorway to his side and whispered into his ear, "Estel, _tithen gwador_, you look terrible...come, I will show you to your roo-..."

A hand forestalled the kind words that fell from his much-older brother's pale, trembling lips; no, as a Ranger he had foregone sleep for longer periods of time than this...and he would do so again, until he knew they were safe.

Lord Elrond rubbed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose in tiredness, something he was accustomed to feeling whenever all his 'children' were together in Imladris.

Forever pulling some stunt or other, or returning from fierce battle with the most _unlikely_ of opponents, half-dead or sporting some manner of weaponry protruding from their flesh...

He sighed, in betwixt exasperation and fond remembrance; those boys could find Wargs in the Library!

Speaking of which...

A rather tired-looking Librarian accosted him upon his journey back to the Healing Halls of the Last Homely House, peppering him with questions, reports and concerns of the general populace, until he was forced to forestall the verbal flood-tide with a hand...

Or forcefully stick said reports somewhere Erestor would undoubtedly find genuinely uncomfortable...

Getting the message near-instantaneously, a rare thing for his old friend, Erestor silenced himself...using a hand to forcefully close a still-moving mouth. If the situation hadn't been so serious...Elrond would have laughed, and made a mental note to share the situation with Glorfindel later...

A soft, almost-rumbling caused him to pause, cautiously glancing through the nearest doorway...to find the Dwarf -Gimli, son of Gloin, he recalled- asleep in a chair with his axe to hand. Surrounded by four small, curly-haired bodies, chests rising and falling gently in sleep...except for the Dwarf, whose chest rose with such a noise it sounded as if he had a Balrog trapped in there!

Withdrawing, the Lord of Imladris sighed, at least they slept. In such troubled times, it could be difficult for others to do so...of course, if things had panned out in the manner he had hoped, Gandalf would have laced their wine with a little 'something extra' to placate the quintet...

He smiled, a vague memory stirring to crystal-clarity in his mind's eye...Elladan and Elrohir strung up upon the Gates of Imladris, looking quite beautiful...in their younger sister's best dresses!

Erestor glanced sideways at his Lord as Elrond let out a very un-regal snort, cupping a hand over his mouth, to forestall the laughter bubbling inside; taking a deep breath, his Lord was able to gasp out a few words before covering his mouth to hide the mirth that shook his shoulders and moistened elven eyes...

Erestor, at the sudden image, dropped all sense of decorum and burst out laughing.

A peal of, somewhat-inappropriate, laughter echoed off the walls and corridor beyond; Atheriel stirred, slightly, hand grasping the air sub-consciously searching for another being...Galadriel gripped it softly, but firmly. Whispering words in the _old, powerful language of the First Ones_, calling to her spirit, calling...

Elrohir hovered nervously about the Lothlorien Lord's shoulder, where Celeborne rested a hand on Elladan's chest, silently seeking him in a Realm not their own...a world of darkness and fear, the Realm of the near-dead and lost.

Not once did Elladan stir...

Glorfindel nearly despaired, Atheriel responded, automatically, to the laughter from outside. Whilst Elladan near refused to breathe, despite the gentle cajoling of his twin and Lord Celeborne; and Legolas...

Legolas, beautiful and powerful, fair-haired elf-ling of Imladris; Prince of Mirkwood and Dawnstar of his people, -One of the Nine famed Walkers- lay pale and still upon the crisp white sheets of the bed. Pallor nearly surpassing that of the freshly laundered bedding...

So pale...

One would almost guess he was already beyond this realm, were it not for the faintest glow that pervaded his features, and the even rising of his chest, it was only a fraction of normal...but it brought hope...

The Balrog-Slayer heard Estel...Aragorn...sigh and slump to a chair, Elrohir breaking his vigil and silently attending his younger brother. Smiling when he saw the _edan_ raise a warning hand to forestall the elder-twin's words, the stubborn streak ran deep within all of them; he vaguely wondered whether it was learned or ingrained into all elf-lings [and human children] who lived within the safety of Imladris...

Elrond strode into the room, taking in the situation at a glance and moving to Atheriel's bedside first, then to Elladan, and finally Legolas. Their condition unchanged.

Noticing his youngest son across the room, the Imladrian Lord began to brew his Middle Earth-renowned 'tea'...carefully measuring, what Lord Glorfindel was _certain_ was not tea leaves, into the pot and almost bringing it to boil with his gaze alone...

None should drink of the tea...if they did not wish to fall prey to its effects...though sometimes a necessary evil...

Turning away, he once again gazed into the cold face of his...yes, _his_ princeling, for had he not taken it upon himself to raise the child as his own son? With Elrond's help, of course...he thought, and cast a wary glance in the dark-haired Lord's direction...

Satisfied no-one was reading his thoughts...well, maybe Galadriel...the elleth in question gazed up to meet his eyes with a smile playing about her soft lips...

"_You are worried, melleth?"_

He sighed, and nodded, feeling overpoweringly weary all of a sudden and knowing it to be of her influence...

"_You feel you have failed him, but you have not, for all hope is not yet lost..."_

Her voice mused in his mind, sparking a tiny flame of hope within his heart...

"_He is the key, our dear grandchild. Legolas is the key...he has the power to save them all, if we can only reach him...or..."_

Glorfindel never gave her a chance to finish her 'thought', starting upright and whispering, wide-eyed, "_Arwen..._"

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_**Elvish Used:**_

_**~Mellon-nin: My Friend**_

_**~Ada/Adar: Dad, Daddy, Father, etc.**_

_**~Tithen Pen/Tithen Penne: Little One/Little Ones**_

_**~Nanneth: Mum, Mother, Mummy, etc.**_

_**~Gwador: Brother**_

_**~Muindor: Sister**_

_**~Ernil: Prince [Tithen Ernil: Princeling!^^]**_

_**~Melleth: Love/Beloved [Melleth-nin: My Love/Beloved]**_

_**~Ellon: Male Elf**_

_**~Ellith: Female Elf**_

_**~Edain/Edan: Man/Humans**_

_**~Perrien: Hobbits**_

_**~Perion: Half-son**_

_**~Ion: Son**_

_**~Saes: Please**_

_**~Hannon le: Thank you**_

_**~Havo Dad: Kill Him/Stop Him**_

_**~Mae Govannon: Greeting...**_


	10. Chapter 9: Tears of Blood, Hope Cries

**Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of it's characters...if I did, why would Legolas be on that Quest? He'd be here, with me, doing lots of chores...shirtless...*EPIC GRIN***

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Chapter 9: Tears of Blood, Hope Cries.

His _Ada_ pressed the cup within his hands and bade him drink the foul-scented concoction...but Aragorn was having none of it. Did he really think him that dull-witted...?

The look on Elrond's face could have set stone on fire, yet Aragorn merely held the cup and gazed back, in a passively-resistant fashion...

Elrohir, likewise, was gazing silently into the depths of his own cup...staring into the eyes of his identical reflection...almost as if he hoped Elladan would leap forth from the crockery, laughing.

A rueful smile crept over his face, thinking that it was just the sort of thing his twin would do...the pain inside lanced his heart.

A deep, stabbing ache that ran the length of his body and he very nearly dropped the cup, going exceptionally pale...and, fully knowing of its effects, drank the tea in one swift motion and collapsed to the cold, stone floor.

Erestor, a by-stander in all this, moved forth and gathered the young lord within his arms, laying him gently on a bed opposite his twin, near where Aragorn sat, staring daggers at his father...

His youngest son was exhausted, but refused to say so...and never would, until the young Prince was hale. Which would not be anytime soon...

So, to save his son collapsing, Elrond had bade the child -for child he was by elven standards, though he just turned eighty-eight...physically only about twenty-seven or so- to drink his herbed tea.

Unfortunately, Aragorn...Estel...was also a skilled healer, and recognised the sharp, sickly odour of the sleeping herbs from across the room. Now he sat, gazing with defiant eyes, steadfastly refusing to do as he was bid...

Elrond rolled his eyes in despair, causing Erestor -for some strange reason- to jump a little and squeak in surprise; why did his sons have to be so _stubborn_?

Resolving himself to the course of action, silently promising himself it was for the child's own good...Elrond slammed a hand, diagonally, into the human's shoulder.

Unable to help himself, Estel's lips parted and set forth a mewling cry, like the noise a sad kitten would make...

Seizing upon this, he flashed out a slender, elven hand and caught his son's jaw, forcing the head back and mouth open; by the grace of the Valar-gifted elven speed, he had the cup from the startled human's hands and half the contents down Estel's throat before the child even realised what was happening...

Aragorn thrashed and broke free, spitting out what he could of the foul concoction...but it was too late, he swayed in his chair and fell forwards, at his father's feet. Muffled thump echoing that of Elrohir's.

"Well," came a voice, "That was certainly entertaining..."

Lifting the human effortlessly, as if he weighed no more than a child, Elrond placed him into the neighbouring bed; pointedly ignoring the look of mirth upon the wizard's face.

Elrohir's eyes gazed, unseeingly, back at him from the next bed. Even unconscious, they were filled with such pain...

He turned away. "Mithra-...Gandalf, how may I help you?" he asked, civilly, whilst mentally he saw a version of himself using the nearby chair to beat the white wizard's brains out. A very un-Lady-like snort fell into the Lady Galadriel's cupped hands, where she struggled to oppress it...eyes alight with mirth in these dark times...

Soon, the shoulders of the Lords Celeborne and Glorfindel were shaking with suppressed laughter, also.

Gandalf...Mithrandir...raised an eyebrow in contemplation, before speaking,

"I can assure you, my young elven-lord, should you make a move towards that chair...I will personally turn you into a Warg."

The calm voice was oddly devoid of its usual humour, an undertone of severity belied by the soft deliverance, a smile tugged the Maia's lips.

Elrond smiled, wanly, in return.

"Maybe 'twould be for the best...for I cannot see any here who can..." he paused, stiffening as he heard the Balrog-Slayer utter his daughter's name...like the whisper of the wind as it passed through the trees...

_Arwen..._

Swiftly, alarm was raised within the citadel, visitors flashed past her chambers...a flurry of activity...the pale faces of her brothers...Atheriel...Grandmother and Grandfathers?

The former Ring-bearer, Hobbits, Mithrandir?

Death was on the air, a sharp tang of blood, confusion...what?

No one would talk, a ring of laughter, soft thuds, her name...

Erestor was trapped within a world of nervous energy as he stalked to her chambers, she opened the door without his having to knock. As if, sensing his approach...

"Arwen," he breathed, unsteadily, "You must come! It is Atheriel...no, not the twins...yes, _Twins!_...but not right now...and your brother, Elladan and...and _your twin_."

Urgency and despair within his voice propelled her to action before he could speak another word, taking off down the halls at great speed, bowling over several unfortunates, who stood between her and her goal.

Mithrandir blocked her path, and though she would _dearly_ have loved to plow into him and continue, she felt as if it was necessary to pause and speak to him...

"Mithrandir, what brings you to Imladris of late?" she asked pleasantly, the false-smile pulling taut at her soft face.

He sighed, suddenly showing his immense age upon worn features,

"Ah, Evenstar, there is much to tell you...before I can let you enter that chamber."

And so saying, began the tale anew...

Horror and rage marred the delicate features of the Lady Arwen, her soft beauty all but banished beneath a mask of even greater beauty, born of hatred and righteous fury; stoked flames tempered by the cool waters of a grief-stricken heart...

Her twin...? Her brother...? Her best friend...?

Dying?

All on the selfish words of an unbalanced King of Mirkwood, too weak to overthrow the steady claim of the Dark Lord's possession, as it took hold of his mind...Fool!

She would to rend him limb from limb, but another called to her soul for aid...and she would to heed it.

Dashing past Mithrandir, all pretence of patience and courtesy gone, Arwen flew through the doors; fury and fear blazing off her in waves, she glowed with the full force of her powers. Head turning hither and thither, searching for..._there!_

Ignoring the startled looks of those surrounding her, Arwen moved across the room and almost fell beside the bed of her 'celestial-twin'...Legolas. So pale, it frightened her...for where he led...

The others would certainly follow.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and clung to one of his soft, bloodless hands, trying desperately to ignore how limp it was in her grasp...

_The Realm she entered was vast and bright, full of shadows and shifting shapes, but her path was clear. And he was waiting there, glowing as he had in childhood, like the sun..._

Brother? ...Twin?

_At her words, he turned. Lightning blue eyes flashing joy and recognition, arms beckoning to her, calling her forth to gaze at..._

_She gasped._

_Her twin stood upon the precipice of life and death, the choice his to make...turn back to her and suffering, or step off the edge and descend to the Hidden Halls of Mandos..._

_So much rested on his decision, for if he leapt, he would drag two, nay, __**five**__ others with him...not to mention those left behind. None would ever be the same for his passing._

My Twin? Please, come with me...please...I – I cannot live without you! _They_ cannot live without you!

You know I will die without you!

One Half, alone, is not a Whole! Please...

_'But you will leave __me__ soon enough,' he spoke for the first time, gazing sadly at her, 'You, and Estel, and Gimli, the Hobbits...all those of mortal blood, by birth or choice, that I hold dear...will perish and I must linger on. Separated from them, even in death...'_

_His gaze returned downwards, contemplating the jump...and suddenly, upon the other side of the gorge of Life and Death, appeared another option..._

_Wide green meadows, sweet-smelling trees and fruit...like Greenwood before its decent into darkness...The Fields of Mandos, last dwelling place of all mortals...offering itself to him._

_A third option...that was not to be._

_For even as the Prince moved to enter the lands, a loud, authoritative voice rang out, clear in the near-silence of the Realm._

_**Hold there, **__**Prince!**_

_A sword tip pressed against ethereal flesh, impeding his passage; and one who was thought long-dead, swam into view._

_Boromir. _

_Son of the Former Steward of Gondor, Lord Denethor._

_Legolas seemed taken aback, Arwen was uncertain whether this was a good or bad thing..._

_'Boromir...?' he questioned, seemingly lost for words, the figure rolled it's eyes and smiled, lowering the sword a fraction._

_**Yes, it is I, and yes, I am dead. I was sent to warn you, by Mandos himself...Something like, 'The Future of this world rests on you, and your children...' **_

_**Speaking of which, I didn't know you had any...?**_

_Boromir paused politely, as Legolas smiled faintly, before answering,_

_'They were to be twins, inquisitive human, but now...Atheriel has chosen to follow me...here.'_

_He vaguely gestured to the undefinable world about him._

_The Steward's-son looked shocked._

_**WHAT?**_

_He snatched at an elven wrist, seeing the horrific, crimson gashes that marred both, he reeled back in surprise and disgust; Legolas raised his chin in defiance. _

_**And what minor travesty could have caused such an action? The First 'Bad Hair Day' in the History of the First-Born?**_

_Scorn was un-contained within the human's voice, disbelief writ across the rugged features, gaze obviously scrutinising the Elf's hair..._

_Softly, quietly, Legolas told him of all that had come before...up until this moment._

_Then it was the edan's turn to look abashed at his harsh words, to which, Legolas simply smiled sadly and made to move past him._

_A restraining hand came up automatically from both sides, one pressing warningly into his chest, the other pulling at his cloak, anchoring him to this realm...and the one before._

_**No. You cannot enter here, nor the Halls of Mandos...I-...**_

_There was a pause, as if someone were conferring silently, with Boromir, before the human turned wide-eyed with fear to the Elves._

_**You must leave now! Go! Or it will be too late!**_

_**Farewell, Prince Legolas of the Woodland Realm...we will meet in another time, I swear this to you, but you must go! **_

_**Now!**_

_Boromir shoved the Elf back into Arwen's embrace and they began to fade as their bodies called, Boromir smiled and waved, until they were long out of view..._

_**Elvish Used:**_

_**~Mellon-nin: My Friend**_

_**~Ada/Adar: Dad, Daddy, Father, etc.**_

_**~Tithen Pen/Tithen Penne: Little One/Little Ones**_

_**~Nanneth: Mum, Mother, Mummy, etc.**_

_**~Gwador: Brother**_

_**~Muindor: Sister**_

_**~Ernil: Prince [Tithen Ernil: Princeling!^^]**_

_**~Melleth: Love/Beloved [Melleth-nin: My Love/Beloved]**_

_**~Ellon: Male Elf**_

_**~Ellith: Female Elf**_

_**~Edain/Edan: Man/Humans**_

_**~Perrien: Hobbits**_

_**~Perion: Half-son**_

_**~Ion: Son**_

_**~Saes: Please**_

_**~Hannon le: Thank you**_

_**~Havo Dad: Kill Him/Stop Him**_

_**~Mae Govannon: Greeting...**_


	11. Ch 10: Diminishing Stars, Brilliant Dawn

**Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of it's characters...if I did, why would Legolas be on that Quest? He'd be here, with me, doing lots of chores...shirtless...*EPIC GRIN*****

* * *

**

Elrond gazed worriedly at his eerily-silent daughter; her back was ramrod straight, breathing shallow and irregular, an unnatural pallor. Matching, identically, the pallor of the Elven-Prince...her twin.

Time almost seemed to stretch and bend as they waited, gentle whispers of encouragement fell from barely moving lips, calling to the remaining sleepers to rise and greet the dawn. Others simply let their chests rise and fall, in the gentle pattern of sleep, unaware of the great deeds being fought on another plane...

He lurched forwards when Arwen gasped, jerking backwards and opening her eyes; hand still clasping that of the Prince; both their faces flushing with health and vitality, colour returning to bloodless lips, a true miracle.

Across from them, Atheriel mewled softly and blinked, gazing blearily about her person, searching for reason and answers that -from her expression- were not as forthcoming as she had hoped...

Lady Galadriel patted her hand warmly, laughing softly and whispering quiet words of waking, to the confused elleth.

Celeborne let out a strangled cry as the hand he held fell limp, colour seeping from the fair elven features as the last breath of life slipped from bloodless lips..._Elladan_...

Elrond leapt forwards in a futile attempt to reach his son, forestalling the horror that attempted to settle on his heart; Arwen's petite mouth fell open in shock, silent sobs wracking her body and she began to glow with fierce, emotion-induced, intensity...

"NO!" the unearthly cry of pain exploded from the unconscious Prince's lips, as his body arched in agony and began to burn with the brilliant intensity of a thousand suns, the golden light too painful to stare directly at as it rapidly filled the chamber. Intermingling, and overpowering, the soft, silver light that streamed from Arwen Undomniel...the Evenstar engulfed by the Dawn...

Clearing the after-glare from his vision, the Lord Celeborne shook his head...and did a double-take. The hand he held was warm and firm, clasping tightly to his own as confused green eyes gazed up at him, from a flushed face. A smile crept across the features, the joy of being alive...pure and innocent.

A miracle! ...A _confusing_ miracle...but a miracle none-the-less!

Atheriel leapt upright with all her Valar-gifted grace intact, despite the bulge protruding from her midriff, a healthy glow covered her from head to toe; she flexed her fingers experimentally and walked to Elladan's bed.

"_Melleth_? ...Are you whole?" she queried, half in jest, the other with concern; the Imladrian laughed and sat upright swiftly, beaming at both her and the Lothlorien-Lord, Celeborne. The latter looking quite shocked at the miraculous recovery...

"Fine, _melleth_, fine! But let us now see to our way-ward Princeling..." he laughed back, rising, unimpeded by any other being in the room...

Legolas looked up at them, face pale, but flush with the tinge of rapidly returning health; he smiled, warmly, natural glow slightly diminished.

"I am well," he said calmly, as the two beings he loved most in the world came to stand either side of his bed. Elladan swiftly tackled by his younger half-sister, in her joy at his being 'not-dead', and nearly crashing to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs...settling instead, for a tight embrace.

Atheriel extended a slender hand, he took it and sat upright, drawing her close; feeling the warmth of her body, so close, when they had come so close to losing it all...

"_I'm sorry..._" he whispered, in a manner so only her ears could hear, she drew apart from him and gazed directly into his eyes, cool ocean meeting sky.

"There is nothing to forgive, _melleth nin..._" she said firmly, words echoed -seconds later- by Elladan, as he joined them. They sat, either side of the bed, as he drew his knees to his chest, resting a soft chin on folded arms, atop his knees; sun-kissed blonde hair streaming about his face, unbound.

He looked, for all the world, like an overgrown elf-ling...after a world-famous scolding from a certain Elf-Lord...

Elladan and Atheriel laughed, provoking a wan smile. Legolas turned his gaze to another, who stood nervously awaiting his attention, and opened his arms to his twin...Arwen rushed forwards and near squeezed the life from him with her voracious embrace. This time, he laughed.

Gimli, grumbling for all he was worth, attempted to shepherd the four energetic and worried Hobbits to the Healing Halls...mildly grateful for the destination, for if Pippin or Merry or whichever the one with the weedy, high-pitched voice was, asked one more question...

Someone would feel the taste of his axe!

Laughter, familiar and beautiful, reached his ears and he gave up his attempt at what could be compared to 'herding cats', taking off towards the sound. Surrounded by four small bodies, each fighting to be first through the immense wooden doors...

Bursting inwards, the Dwarf stopped short, marvelling at the scene before them...

Gandalf silently smoking his pipe against the left-hand wall, seated betwixt two beds that held a slumbering Aragorn and the identical copy of Legolas's...what? Mate...? Husband...?

_'We call our life-mates, 'Bonds'...'_ a cool voice whispered into his mind.

It was then Gimli took in the sight of Lady Galadriel, seated upon a bed across the room, draped in the arms of Lord Celeborne; fingers, from both, entwined with that of the Balrog-slayer of legend, Lord Glorfindel.

All three looked exhausted but triumphant, a dash of relief seemed to have been carelessly splayed across, normally emotionless, faces.

The Lady Arwen sat on the edge of a nearby bed, her body and facial features glowing with unconstrained joy, tears threatening to spill forth...the Lord of Imladris, Elrond, stood silently gazing at the bed across from them, absently stroking her raven locks in comfort...

Four small voices squealed in delight, earning the gaze of all occupants, some shocked, others joyful...

Cross-legged upon a bed, surrounded by his..._Bonds_...sat their fair-haired archer, beaming at them. He motioned for them to come closer with a bandaged forearm; Atheriel lounged upon the pillows beside him, a hand upon her pregnant belly, rubbing slow circles.

Elladan, hair now immaculately styled as ever, knelt upright on the bed, beside the Prince...slowly running his fingers through the long, pale hair, freeing any tangles...before finally beginning the intricate task of intertwining the traditional warrior's braids.

From what the dwarf had heard, this was an intimate act of deep devotion and trust, anyone else would have lost a hand before touching elven hair in such a manner...

Still, if it made the 'Bloody Elf' happy...he didn't mind how strange the whole situation seemed...

Delicate elven fingers finished swiftly, the final cord in place a fraction of a second before four, small, curly-haired bodies flung themselves at the archer with the speed and force of one of his own arrows. Elladan flung himself backwards, quickly, to avoid being bowled over; moving up the bed to attend Atheriel's hair...and smiling as he watched the ensuing madness from the corner of an eye...

"Legolas!" an almost-indistinguishable, high-pitched voice shrieked in his ear, his Bonds flinched in sympathy...

"Yes, Pippin?" he queried, grasping hold of the wriggling bundle and drawing him from the small flurry of activity taking place on the bed...

"You're alive!" The voice shrieked again, louder this time, much to the amusement and horror of those around with delicate elven hearing, Legolas smiled broadly.

Deciding to humour the Perinneth, he countered, "Am I? I hadn't noticed!"

Four sets of eyes rolled heavenwards and a startled Librarian shrieked from the corridor, much to a certain dwarven companion's amusement...Gimli approached him.

"Elf..." he paused, as if unsure how to proceed, "...Elf...if you ever do something that stupid again, I'll kill you." The logistics of his words completely ignored in the face of an unwanted emotion, the son of Gloin desperately trying not to show any sense of emotion about the 'Bloody Elf'...

Legolas placed a fair hand on his stout shoulder and smiled, secretively, whispering, "_Your secret is safe with me...elf-lover..._"

He tossed in the extra phrase as an incentive to argument, knowing the Dwarf could not resist the bait and giving him a chance to move past an awkward emotional moment.

"Wha-...? 'Elf-Lov-...? You..! But...?" he spluttered, unable to form a coherent argument with which to rebut the elven words...settling instead for a roaring, "_**BLOODY ELF**_!"

Which set the entire hall into a second of paused surprise, then gave way to uncontrollable fits of laughter...

Awakening from a fitful, drug-induced sleep, to find the entire of Imladris gone mad...was not on Aragorn's top-ten, to-do list at the current moment. He gazed blearily about him in search of answers, as the elves all over -Lord and Lady alike- stood doubled over in mirth at some un-explained joke...

"Ah, good to see you're awake, my lad," came the cheery voice of a certain Wizard...who sat, puffing merrily on a pipe, to his right. Another form stirred on the far-side of the Maia, Elrohir bolting upright and gazing at the world with a look of confusion and fear, almost as if he feared some mad person -probably human- had declared the world be painted pink...

Aragorn shook his head at such a strange and disturbing notion, a tad confused as to where such a thought had drifted from...

"Pray tell us, Gandalf, what is going on here?" he pleaded, as the Wizard turned back from greeting Elrohir; a hand grasping the shell-shocked twin's shoulder, comfortingly.

"Well...it all started when Gimli set the Hobbits loose on Legolas...and things went downhill from there. Shall I continue...?" he asked mischievously, as Aragorn raised a hand to forestall any further explanations...if Legolas was involved, he most definitely didn't...want...to...know...

_Wait a minute!_

The Heir of Isilduir bolted upright, fully-awake, to see sunlight gleaming off the pale golden head of his closest friend...who stood on top of his bed in the vague chance that an enraged Gimli wouldn't be able to reach him there...

He laughed, earning a surprised stare from both 'combatants', the fair-haired archer bounding easily over to the other side of the room...to land, upright, upon his bed. A surprised and confused dwarf in his wake...

"Estel! I was wondering when you were going to wake up! How can you sleep at a time like this?" he said in a mock-accusatory tone, smiling.

Aragorn cast a dark look in the direction of a decidedly innocent-faced Elf-Lord, before responding, "Oh...it wasn't really _my_ choice..."

Understanding, the Elf laughed, "Got you with his herbed tea, did he? Don't worry; it wouldn't be the first time he's done something of that sort to me either..."

The elf actually started to count off on his fingers!

"There was that time he slipped the herb in my wine, after I refused to tell him my ribs were broken...once he placed it in some candles, lighting them within my room so he could check an arrow wound I had concealed...

"...Not to mention when he placed some in the hearth fire and lulled all within to sleep, for the avowed purpose of finding hidden injuries after a violent battle with some Orcs...or that time he placed it in my food...and once, I remember being force-fed the damn tea...Valar, it was awful stuff!"

Legolas exclaimed, and switched hands, for he had run out of fingers!

"_Then_ there was the time a certain Elf-Lord, _who shall remain nameless_..." He hissed loudly, voice escalating in pitch, at an innocent-looking Elrond, "...actually created a potent paste, dipping his blade within it, and slashing us all -non-life-threateningly, of course- with it when we refused his ministrations after a particularly violent Training Session with Lord Glorfindel..."

The Balrog-slayer in question held a smile in check, jaw muscles twitching, and suddenly found the ceiling's architecture to be of extreme interest...

"Not to mention," continued the Elf, "the time a _certain Lord_...-and I'm not even sure this can be counted...- merely struck me about the temple with a fist, whilst holding the herb...all in the name of my 'continued well-being'...personally, I think he was just getting a little revenge for the loss of his eyebrows. Which, by the way, I never _meant_ to set fire to, ...it just..._happened_..."

Gandalf looked as if he were about to explode, and finally let out a loud guffaw, the sound intertwining with the soft, melodic laughter of the elves, high-pitched squeals of the Hobbits and low, rumbling laughter of the Dwarf.

Aragorn smiled, eyeing the infamous white staff, wondering exactly _how_ Legolas had both stolen and then _used_ the item of power...As if reading his thoughts, the Elf leaned forwards and, covering them both in a veil of blond hair, whispered, "_I'll tell you later..._"

"**Oh no you won't!**" Elrond cried as he straightened, hastily revising, "Ahem. That is to say...if you know _what's good for you_, you may revise any ideals regarding your choice of story..."

The implied threat left them both a tad stunned, before bursting into gales of laughter at his retreating back.

The summer breeze was warm as it wafted into them; borne in on the soft sound of mirth, in a place recently desolate of hope...

* * *

_**Elvish Used:**_

_**~Mellon-nin: My Friend**_

_**~Ada/Adar: Dad, Daddy, Father, etc.**_

_**~Tithen Pen/Tithen Penne: Little One/Little Ones**_

_**~Nanneth: Mum, Mother, Mummy, etc.**_

_**~Gwador: Brother**_

_**~Muindor: Sister**_

_**~Ernil: Prince [Tithen Ernil: Princeling!^^]**_

_**~Melleth: Love/Beloved [Melleth-nin: My Love/Beloved]**_

_**~Ellon: Male Elf**_

_**~Ellith: Female Elf**_

_**~Edain/Edan: Man/Humans**_

_**~Perrien: Hobbits**_

_**~Perion: Half-son**_

_**~Ion: Son**_

_**~Saes: Please**_

_**~Hannon le: Thank you**_

_**~Havo Dad: Kill Him/Stop Him**_

_**~Mae Govannon: Greeting...**_

****

Chapter 10: Diminishing Stars, Brilliant Dawn.


	12. Ch 11: For Those Who Don't Know Whats

**Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of it's characters...if I did, why would Legolas be on that Quest? He'd be here, with me, doing lots of chores...shirtless...*EPIC GRIN*****

* * *

**

As the gales of laughter settled into comfortable silence, Aragorn suddenly noticed the fatigue that glimmered through the youthful exuberance of his oldest friend and 'elder' brother, casting about with his eyes, the now-King of Gondor saw it reflected in those around him.

Tension, anticipation, grief, fear, love, relief, joy...all these emotions and more fuelled the room, a heady and dizzying concoction. He smiled, reaching up a firm hand and pulling the fair-haired archer into a seated position on the bed, noticing the less-than-graceful semi-collapse of the Elf, still smiling like a child.

Elrohir snapped into full wakefulness immediately –though difficultly, for he had swallowed more than Aragorn- and let out an undignified squeak of joy!

In the pause of a single blink, the dark-haired elf-lord-in-training had dashed across the room and felled his brother to the floor, arms clasped about one another.

A grateful 'thank-the-Valar-you're-not-dead' embrace between twins, somehow manifested itself into a free-for-all wrestling match, where both ended up laughing like crazed idiots, neither willing to give despite how ludicrously matched they were.

Identical to a fault...as Elrond would say.

Little in the world is less dignified for a King, or indeed a Prince, than to be confronted with a large, feather-spewing object at close range...

"Pumph!"

_What a strange sound..._mused Legolas as the pillow struck him directly in the face, simultaneously to the one Aragorn received, feathers flew everywhere. It must be said that it is definitely a difficult task to decide whether it is you wish to be mad about the incident or burst out laughing...

The Prince decided he would wait until he knew who had thrown the object first...

Elladan appeared to be shaking with mirth, whilst simultaneously making for the exit...Elrohir couldn't have looked more innocent if he tried...and instantly drew the archer's suspicions. One of them was the culprit, ah, well, it did not matter, they would _both_ feel his wrath when-...wait a minute...

Arwen.

He grabbed the nearest pillow.

Feeling smug, Arwen adopted a blank expression as she saw her weapon connect with her twin's features, unable to withhold a slight quirk of the lips as she saw how he gazed at Elladan with suspicion...True, her brother _had_ thrown a pillow...just not at him.

So lost in her own thoughts of victory, she did not see the on-coming object until it had collided with her midriff and knocked her backwards off the bed, landing on the stone floor with a soft, 'Oooomph!'

To the sound of the Elven Prince laughing his head off!

A beautiful sound, to be sure, but one that just screamed –at least, to her ears- 'Strike me_. Strike me quite hard with the nearest object to hand, for I am the perpetrator of the fluffy assault you recently received_.'

And so she did.

Fearing the worst, Lord Elrond of Imladris ran back towards the Healing Halls he had so recently vacated, spurred onwards by the worsening yelps, laughter and ...indeed, was that a War-Cry?

...Of Gondor?

Bursting through the door, he assessed the scene in an instant –for indeed, the entire tableau of events appeared frozen upon his arrival, the only movement was the falling feathers...how did a pillow affix itself to the ceiling, exactly?

A battered-looking Erestor lolled against a nearby wall, clutching to the steady arm of Glorfindel for support, the Balrog-slayer looking much like a large feathered bird at this point, feathers protruding from every inch of clothes or hair. The Lady Arwen was steadfastly throttling her older brother...Elrohir? [For on occasion, even he could not tell them apart. When they were both covered from head to toe in feathers being such an instance...]

Atheriel held a nearby chair between herself and a pillow-wielding...Elladan?, both laughing, whilst four curly-haired Hobbits poked heads, cautiously, out from under the bed that had held –until recently- Legolas. The Dwarf, Gimli, it seemed, had decided that it would be prudent to hang himself upside-down from the nearest coat rack...that particular visual held a smattering of liberally-applied, Princeling handprints, _all_ over it...

Lord Celeborne had pinned his Ranger-son, Estel/Aragorn/Strider/Whatever he styled himself these days, to a nearby bed and was in the process of attempting force-feeding him more of –what was probably now, bitterly cold- tea...Galadriel herself, remained calm in the midst of such chaos.

At least, up until the point where she was frozen behind Mithrandir, hands upraised, the Wizard's favoured hat in her grasp; her smile overwhelming.

It seemed Gandalf would have struck back...if not for the fact that he was bereft of a certain object...his staff. Elrond paled.

That left...

Standing in the midst of the tableau, stood a certain elvan-prince, clutching a certain staff; Elrond began to back away slowly. The others seemed to relax and grow lax in their attentions to the others, watching the exchange; Legolas's eyes widened slightly, face morphing from hellion to innocent elfling –apparently, much to Mithrandir's delight.

"There it is, what did I tell you? Butter wouldn't melt in his mouth at this moment!" the Maia laughed, to the Hobbit's amusement.

Merry nudged Pippin, "_We need to learn how to do that!_"

Legolas smiled, indulgently, at the pair and winked; sharing a mischievous grin that the Eldar-elf hardly failed to observe, his foresight sending shivers down his spine of impending doom.

'My Lord Elrond, you were saying earlier...?' the Elfling taunted him, smiling and caressing the Valar-cursed staff lovingly, the Imladrian Lord cast an accusing gaze at the Wizard, laying all blame directly upon his ancient shoulders...

"Dear child...if you wish to live beyond this dawning day, I suggest you return that staff and keep your mouth firmly shut...else I give you the free right to a full hour's head start, before I _track you down and kill you_ with my own two hands...but, I suppose, it's your decision...?"

His voice was calm and only vaguely stressed certain words to make his point.

The dratted child seemed to consider this for a moment, before tilting his head and gazing back at him, innocent-eyed expression turned on full-force,

"Then it seems, my lord, we will be seeing each other very shortly...for the tale I have to tell is quite worth it."

Legolas smiled infuriatingly, anticipation rising in those round him, Elrond actually began to despair...

An idea struck him, he strode over and whispered in his ear,

"_Legolas Elrond__perion_, if you ever wish to remain in Middle Earth...you will stay silent. Else, you may find yourself awakening upon a boat bound for Valinor...someday soon..."

The threat worked...blue eyes went wide in shock and hastily concealed fear. So...the elfling did not want to leave these shores...or did he fear it?

"Father, that was cruel and you know it!" yelled Arwen, from two feet away, probably the only elf to have heard his quiet words. Hobbits clamoured over one another to get closer, find out what was going on...

A loud '_**Harrumph**_!' signified that the dwarf had been freed from his previous position by Aragorn...whilst Elladan and Elrohir laughed silently at the sight of the ruffled creature.

Recovered in Elven grace, the Lady Galadriel, and Lords Glorfindel, Erestor and Celeborne moved over to them, the former glaring at Elrond; cheerily asking Legolas if he'd like to recount the story with or without that staff...?

"With, I believe, My Lady. It acts as a..." he paused and threw a pointed glance at Elrond, "...a visual aid of sorts..."

Atheriel moved aside so that the Prince may sit upon his own bed again, Elladan sliding comfortably beside them; Gandalf stepped up beside his ear and whispered admonishments at him.

It was then that the thought occurred to him, _Liralasse_.

Oh, Valar! How could he have been so callous? So...cruel?

The poor child wanted nothing more than to forsake these shores and race to Valinor, where his mother, twin and most likely, countless friends and fellow-warriors now resided.

Yet he was afraid of abandoning those here, these mortals he loved, fearing their absence...knowing he could never return...and even if it were at all possible...it would not be in their lifetimes.

This aggrieved him.

He would to apologise to the child soon, it seemed he must also apologise for his slur earlier.

Elrond-_perion_. Half-son. Unwanted...

Never in his many years had he ever called the child –or even Aragorn- by that name, giving him no true claim to family...

The Prince had always, _always_, been titled as Legolas Elrondion, when he had stayed under the care and claim of those in Imladris...

He had been wrong. He would apologise.

For now, he merely watched as the child unconsciously caressed the staff and warily listened to the story being told...ever-ready to cause a sudden 'accident' should the threat to his eternally-diminishing dignity call for it...

The white wood was smooth under his fingers, constantly moving, delighting in the buzzing sensation he felt the staff give off at his touch...

"_Many years ago..._" Someone coughed, someone who sounded _suspiciously_ like Aragorn...that man had an issue with elven time-keeping and punctuality...fine. He would concede this _once_...

"_For the benefit of a certain _edan_, it was nearly two and a half thousand years hence; I had been in Imladris for nearly a full century by that time. Arwen and I were...bored._

_As many well know, the most dangerous creature in the entire of Middle Earth is a bored elfling... _Stop looking so smug, Gandalf!

_Now imagine two, nay, four of them...for Elladan and Elrohir, only our seniors by two thousand years or more, were as listless as we..._

_To ease such crippling boredom, we ceased our inactivity with a dare contest...I can see from your faces, you all know this does not bode well for certain inhabitants of the -up until that point- mostly peaceful Rivendell..._

_At first, they were simple tasks: climb the highest tree, kiss so-and-so [not always limited to one at a time, often there were 'group-dares']...although the disturbing nature of that particular challenge left a certain Balrog-Slayer with nightmares for several centuries..._" he trailed off, all turning curious gazes between, the archer and the Balrog slayer.

Glorfindel raised two hands, as if to ward off an invisible attack and stated simply, "When you awake in your chambers to be surrounded, and then _rushed_ by four crazy children..." he shuddered slightly. Leaving the rest to their imagination...

Legolas drew the attention back to his tale, a swift glance in his foster-father's direction to ensure he was not likely to become impaled on a benign object whilst his back was turned...

"_Others included trying to remove a pastry from the kitchen unnoticed –not an easy task- or running naked through Imladris in the Daylight hours...'_

Someone snorted, Gimli, obviously. The dwarf asked, incredulously –eyeing up the three _ellon_ involved -, "...And which, of you three scrawny brats, was the one to undertake such a mad dare?"

A slight cough caught the attention of those gathered, as did the slender raised hand, all eyes now drawn to the blushing Arwen; her eyes averted to the ground as she said,

"That would be me, Master Dwarf. I was the one who nearly scared certain Lords and Ladies to death by parading past them at great speeds one morning...without the luxury of clothing..."

She laughed, and motioned for her twin to continue...but not before she added, in a mock-whisper, "...but I was not alone...was I, my twin?"

The Prince coughed and attempted to draw attention back to the tale at hand, despite the raucously laughing Dwarf near deafening him...

"_But someone had a different idea, it was then that Elrohir dared me to steal Mithrandir's staff...for the Grey Maia had re-appeared in Imladris, with a weary face and many tales to tell. His visits were always to be looked forwards to...it was exciting for us all..._

_I told Elrohir that he had __completely__ fallen from his tree, for Mithrandir always carried his staff about with him...but he was insistent. Even went so far as to point out that maybe those of Mirkwood are simply a large group of tree-hugging, orc-chasing, cowardly __**dwarf-**__ uh, __**troll**__-kissers..._

_Quite a substantial insult for an elfling...though I don't agree, personally..."_

"I refute your claim! For I apologised...afterwards..._And_ I spent two weeks waiting for my shattered jaw-bone to heal!" cried Elrohir, somewhat sadly, his face betraying no sign of blame; gesturing for the continuation of the tale as he mock-whispered, '_Though I was right..._'

It seemed the tale was suspended briefly, as the Prince leapt up in the blink of an eye and tackled Elrohir to the ground, ending up straddling the twin and pointing the staff at the older elfling's face. Whispering something in elvish the others did not quite catch, though Mithrandir certainly laughed loud enough when he realised...

* * *

_**Elvish Used:**_

_**~Mellon-nin: My Friend**_

_**~Ada/Adar: Dad, Daddy, Father, etc.**_

_**~Tithen Pen/Tithen Penne: Little One/Little Ones**_

_**~Nanneth: Mum, Mother, Mummy, etc.**_

_**~Gwador: Brother**_

_**~Muindor: Sister**_

_**~Ernil: Prince [Tithen Ernil: Princeling!^^]**_

_**~Melleth: Love/Beloved [Melleth-nin: My Love/Beloved]**_

_**~Ellon: Male Elf**_

_**~Ellith: Female Elf**_

_**~Edain/Edan: Man/Humans**_

_**~Perrien: Hobbits**_

_**~Perion: Half-son**_

_**~Ion: Son**_

_**~Saes: Please**_

_**~Hannon le: Thank you**_

_**~Havo Dad: Kill Him/Stop Him**_

_**~Mae Govannon: Greeting...**_

****

Chapter 11: For Those Who Don't Know What's Good For Them...


	13. Chapter 12: A Tale of Two Eyebrows

**Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of it's characters...if I did, why would Legolas be on that Quest? He'd be here, with me, doing lots of chores...shirtless...*EPIC GRIN***

**You will swear those four have a Death Wish...Run! Angry Elrond! Arwen's cracking bad Puns!**

**Gandalf has gone_ Evil_...? Read & Review Please!^^**

* * *

**Chapter 12: A Tale of Two Eyebrows...**

The hair of the pinned elf went the most _magnificent_ shade of crimson, like fire...Legolas laughed maniacally...not relinquishing his position. For when he did...he was dead...

Instead continuing the epic from his...most unique location...

"_Ah well, it seemed Mithrandir had, perchance, to leave his staff in his room whilst speaking with Lords Glorfindel and Erestor in the gardens...I have always been under the impression he left it there on purpose..._

_But at the time, it was the most brilliant stroke of fortune, so I stole through his window and took the item; Elrohir waited on the ground outside, for it seems he is not accustomed to heights!"_

The elf beneath him flailed, "I'll give _you_ 'not accustomed to heights' you-...you-...ah! And I _was not! _It was just that his room was on the third level, and you know how I disliked climbing that particular tree...'

The Son of Elrond trailed off, Legolas laughed,

'There is... -_was_- never anything wrong with that tree, you merely upset it by suggesting we use her for firewood...she was quite a sensitive beech, and therefore you must excuse the subsequent bruising upon your person. For it was fairly deserved..."

Elladan raised an eyebrow, in a fair imitation of his father,

"She? What is _wrong_ with you wood-elves? Not only do you _name_ the trees, you distinguish their genders!

Don't tell me, you make them all pretty outfits in your spare time and wear naught but flowers when you go tree-hugging?" he jested loudly –disturbing [and mildly arousing] the others [especially a certain Dwarf] with images of blond elves doing just that, for years to come...

Leaning forwards, he mock-whispered to Elrohir in Elvish,

"_Brother, do you intend to lie there all day or get up? You are making me both incredibly horny and jealous...not necessarily in that order..."_

Elrohir burst out laughing, then leapt upright with a strange wiggle; eyeing, first, the staff and then its current wielder questioningly.

"Ah well, at least you will be able to tell us apart from now on..." he sighed; as Legolas pointed the staff at him and whispered something...he sighed again, -this time in flagrant relief- when his hair faded to its former chocolaty glory...

"Third Floor? I don't remember there being a third floor to Imladris...?" Questioned the former Ring-Bearer, turning to Gandalf in surprise; the Hobbit still blushing furiously over the previous comment, but strangely, seeing the Imladrian twin's point...

The wizard did not seem to trust himself to say anything, but nodded back to where Legolas sat...back upon the bed with Elladan and Atheriel...

"There..._was_...a Third Floor, but I shall explain that later.

_The staff was secreted back to the rooms we shared, though we all could have had separate quarters if we had chosen –and indeed, several were set aside for such a use. Though we chose to stay together, in the largest room, besides Ada's –uh, Lord Elrond's- Chambers, of course._

"_Gloating took place, naturally, but then more mischievous ideas overtook our minds...it was around that time that Glorfindel's favoured arrows took to chasing around a confused Lord Erestor, a simple but highly effective spell that only lasted a few hours. But it was exceptionally entertaining..._

"_Then the fountain within the c__ourtyard began to spew flames instead of water –_I would like it be known, however, that was unintentional. We –I- was merely attempting to set Lord Erestor's robes afire_...but became distracted...by a certain elleth taking the opportunity to repeat her previous streaking episode. Somehow coerced into joining in...again._

"_...Although, when the twins decided to plague the entire of Imladris in just such a state of...undress...it was interesting to hear reports of elves plagued by a naked ghost that appeared to manifest in several places at once._

"_Until Lord Elrond –excuse the blatant pun- put 'two and two together' and came up with twins...we were almost grounded for the next five-hundred years, if it had not been for the intervention of certain visitors...-_

"_Lord Celeborne visited with Lady Galadriel, under the pretext of 'visiting their grandchildren', but we all knew it was really an excuse to see Glorfindel...and it was too perfect an opportunity to miss..._

"_I-we- enchanted the halls so that whenever the Lady set foot in them, the songs of birds would pierce the air, loudly, stopping only when she left._

_I remember you, DaerNanneth, did not leave your quarters for four days straight...and for that I apologise, we did not realise we would slowly send you insane with the raucous calling of birds at your every waking hour..._

_Nor how difficult it must have been to contemplate any fowl placed upon your plate as its 'cousins' cried out to you..._

"_Lord Celeborne was...surprised...when his wardrobe, bathtub and desk-chair suddenly developed personalities and opinions on his life...that was quite amusing...though short-lived; for we had to return their natural states in order for him to finally retrieve his robes and bathe. _

_No offense, DaerAda, but we did find your using our room constantly, to be a small bit of an inconvenience, it was hard to plot when you were listening!_

"_Finally, our attention turned to Ada...Lord Elrond...wondering just what exactly would most likely be funny...but not instantly punishable by a century or ten in our room..._

_Arwen came up with the idea to set his hair the colour of moss, I did not like that idea, I wasn't actually sure how the staff would react to such a request...the others had been ambiguous...unlikely to cause any real harm...to us..._

_There was a fight, all four of us wanted the chance to do something about a certain 'uptight' Ada who had grounded us not just last century..._

"_Apparently, our anger and other emotions were creating magical charge, it ended with Arwen and I fighting over possession of the staff._

_We both laid claim to it with both hands upon the wood, shouting what we perceived were rude words at one another, though I hardly believe 'Orc-kisser' is a standard insult that will send foes running, in recent times..._

_Nor the fear-inspiring phrase, "You're Ugly and your mother dresses you funny!"_

_Suddenly, there was an explosion of something, the staff convulsed and the floor above ours began to collapse...much to our chagrin. Flaming debris of the third floor began to filter down onto our heads._

_Elladan and Elrohir grabbed us, for they were older and bigger in general, and dragged us down the stairs and outside; where Lord Elrond was waiting..._

_It was at that exact moment...we all knew, we were so very, very dead._

_Wordlessly, he admonished us, eyebrows raised; it was then I realised that in the chaos, Arwen and I were still gripping the staff, of all things!_

_I went to relinquish my claim, as did she, when something terrible occurred..._

_The great Beech tree, Calimedrae, older than all others in Imladris...caught in the explosion was ablaze, groaning and shrieking in fury and frustration, with one last shriek, her trunk snapped and fell to the ground._

_Her screams and death agony shuddered through us all..."_

He trailed, not quite wishing to re-live that particular moment...

"No, my twin, it shuddered through us to be sure, but none felt it as keenly as you, Wood-elf!" interjected Arwen, "When you shrieked, I thought you were dying! And then I felt it through you...Valar, it hurt!"

She took a calming breath, smiling slightly, "It was about that point that I swore never to let you near any wood-chopping activities, for the '_fore-see_-able' future!"

The Evenstar laughed at her own, rather bad pun, the Dawnstar rolled his eyes skywards; Erestor squeaked and looked accusingly at them all...

"_We lost control. _

_Energy, magic, call it what you will, there was a force built within the staff and it took a moment's ...weakness...for it to erupt forth and engulf those around us..._

_Some emerged unscathed, others with charred clothing or hair...but Ada..._

_It seemed Lord Elrond had...uh, 'lost the manner in which he was best at expressing himself', for his eyebrows were gone! Completely!_

_Rather than take the logical action and run for our immortal lives, Arwen, Elrohir, Elladan and I were feeling rather suicidal at that point, so sat down upon the grass and gazed up at him._

_Loudly commenting on the dishevelled appearance and lack of expression displayed by a certain elven-lord, and how he should be ashamed to be in public looking like that..."_

Those listening –noticeably Sam, Merry and Pippin- had paled somewhat, whilst Elrohir, Elladan and Arwen shook with contained mirth, tears leaking from eyes; Legolas became acutely aware of the burning sensation between his shoulder blades...

A sure sign Lord Elrond was unleashing his renowned 'Glare'...

Gimli was enthralled and appalled at the same time, yet slightly proud...in a fatherly sense, never had he heard such a tale of destruction!

Frodo moved forwards and laid a hand upon the Elf's leg, "What...what happened next?"

As Legolas made to speak, his mouth closed again, head tilted to the side, as if asking a question of another...of- Gandalf?

The wizard smirked unnecessarily and spoke,

"Well, well, well, it seemed that four little elf-lings had seemed to create such havoc!

I had intentionally 'not realised' that my staff was missing, up until few moments before the explosion that tore the third floor off the Last Homely House of Imladris...mainly because if he discovered I had not mentioned it was missing beforehand, Elrond would have killed me!

"I was surprised to learn of the capability that the children showed in handling the staff, I knew they were all gifted to some extent...but not to_ what_ extent...

And yet, here was my answer, the fire-fountain, enchanted arrows –good work on that one my lad, highly amusing- a chorus of birds that was slowly sending the Golden Lady into realms of the mind unbidden...ah, and of course, the talking furniture...

"Took me two days to work out how you did that so I could reverse-engineer the prank! There was this rather, shall we say, 'painful?' idiot in a nearby tavern...ah, we'll not speak of it now...sufficive to say, I had my revenge!

No, stop looking so smug or I shall have to whack you with my staff...!

...When I get it back..."

"Well, it seemed that certain elflings were indeed testing the patience of both their Father, and Mandos, who would not, I'm assuming, be pleased to have to greet them at his halls at such an age...or less when the reasoning was explained...

"My prized staff was still clutched in four hands, all different, and I had to pry it from them; and they had to risk losing it or the even greater risk of glancing away from Lord Elrond. They wisely chose to relinquish my staff...

"With which I was able to protect them from wrath they had never experienced before, it took all of my cunning to convince..._a certain someone_...that my idea of revenge was better than his merely strangling them all with his bare hands...or feeding them to Wargs...or dumping them at the Black Gates of Mordor and shouting '_They're all Yours_!' at Sauron..."

The Wizard smirked at the chastised look on the Lord's face, Aragorn was particularly amused and snorted into a hand; the Hobbits looked to take this literally and were horrified, so he smile to let them know it was alright and continued,

"It was not until two days later, when they believed themselves safe, that I struck. A most..._unique_...punishment, if I must say so myself."

Elrohir grumbled, "And indeed, _you do_, oh _Modest _Mithrandir..."

Gandalf laughed heartily, "Ah, I see you still hold a grudge, but enough, the others are bursting to know what I did and if you should say one more word afore this tale is finished...you may find your punishment repeated..." he warned.

The Hobbits were on the edge of their seats –so to speak-, straining forwards in the desperate need to know the answer; as was Gimli, even Aragorn leant forwards, an eager expression on his face...

"Certain elflings awoke as normal, went about their businesses within their rooms and such...but it was not until they all entered their respective bathing chambers that simultaneous howls of surprise, outrage and dismay echoed through the halls.

To the almost-perverse delight of certain Lords and Ladies...

"It seems that..._somehow_...during the night, their hair and eye-colours had become muddled...involving a certain set of twins to wander around Imladris with Emerald-green hair and chocolate-brown eyes...

Whilst two others had delightful shades of Ocean and Sky blue hair, one with midnight black eyes, the other pure golden...

I decided it would be safer to leave for a short period of time after that..."

The Istar paused, thoughtfully, deliberately avoiding the four murderous gazes trained upon his person from four different faces...he smiled. Dangerously.

"In fact, it seems the complete worth of my tale cannot be complete without a much-required, _visual_, demonstration..."

Four fair faces were filled with inexplicable comprehension and horror, leaning backwards as he snatched the staff from a lax grasp and slammed it into the ground with a loud, "_Daelso_!"

The flash of brilliant white light blinded those around him, several blinked furiously to clear the after-image from their burning eyes, only to gaze in wonder or burst out in blatant amusement at the visage that confronted them.

Brilliant golden eyes sharply contrasted the glimmering, sea-blue hair that was held back in restrained warrior's braids, as the Elven-Prince gazed daggers at the Maia. Elrohir moved to stand beside Elladan, both identically adorned with brilliant emerald-green hair, turning furious brown eyes upon Mithrandir, also.

An undignified squeak came from behind them, as Arwen discovered her wavy tresses of pure midnight black had exchanged places with the rich sky-blue hues of her eyes, looking for all the world as if a mantle of water had settled upon her head.

Pitch-black eyes turned accusingly on Gandalf, unamused by this stunt, and moved to sit next to Legolas; the pair looked to be wearing cascading waterfalls...it was too much!

Elrond and Mithrandir burst into laughter simultaneously, each fervently praying to the Valar, that they be allowed to live past the next few moments!

* * *

Next Chapter: Things Get Serious in Chapter 13: Shadows of Death Mar the Springtime...

Elladan & Elrohir: oooh! Spooky!

SailorSilvanesti: You Shut Up! And get back in your Page! Go on, get back in the Next Chapter you two!

Legolas: *wanders over* Hey, what are you-

SailorSilvanesti: *Gets out Pitchfork of Doom* Get. Back. In. The. Story!

*Elladan, Elrohir & Legolas run for their immortal lives...*

Read & Review, please!^^

_**Elvish Used:**_

_**~Mellon-nin: My Friend**_

_**~Ada/Adar: Dad, Daddy, Father, etc.**_

_**~Tithen Pen/Tithen Penne: Little One/Little Ones**_

_**~Nanneth: Mum, Mother, Mummy, etc.**_

_**~Gwador: Brother**_

_**~Muindor: Sister**_

_**~Ernil: Prince [Tithen Ernil: Princeling!^^]**_

_**~Melleth: Love/Beloved [Melleth-nin: My Love/Beloved]**_

_**~Ellon: Male Elf**_

_**~Ellith: Female Elf**_

_**~Edain/Edan: Man/Humans**_

_**~Perrien: Hobbits**_

_**~Perion: Half-son**_

_**~Ion: Son**_

_**~Saes: Please**_

_**~Hannon le: Thank you**_

_**~Havo Dad: Kill Him/Stop Him**_

_**~Mae Govannon: Greeting...**_


	14. Chapter 13: Shadows of Death Mar Spring

**Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of it's characters...if I did, why would Legolas be on that Quest? He'd be here, with me, doing lots of chores...shirtless...*EPIC GRIN***

Random Thought: Ever wondered what would have happened if they had given Chuck Norris the Ring...? It certainly wouldn't have been a Trilogy! XD

**This Chapter: Generalised, "They didn't...tell me they didn't...They did..." Moments, Gandalf is Evil-er than before, Elrond is a Mastermind and our favourite Elves had to suffer! Big "AWWWWWW!^^" ****Moment, Body-Swapping and Elrond Worrying, Parent!Elrond...^^**

**Glorfindel with a large butterfly net...O.o**

Sneak Preview: "She said wistfully, a withdrawn look across her features, as she contemplated vast thoughts of awe-inspiring magnitude. Otherwise known as, 'wishing she could talk to trees', quite hard."

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**Chapter 13: Shadows of Death Mar the Springtime...**

Graciously, the Elven-Prince sighed, and began to laugh, joining most the others in the chamber; for if truth be told, they _did_ look quite amusing. There was no manner in which they could avoid conceding that particular victory of the Wizard...

He decided to reign in the hilarity, raising his voice, he called,

"Ah, but our tale did not end there, Mithrandir, as well you know...as do you, Lord Elrond..._Ada._"

The pair choked off their laughter, a sense of foreboding emanating from the elflings, who -despite their current appearances- were looking far too calm for someone in their situations...

Golden eyes twinkled in amusement, "You may play with our appearances, Mithrandir, but my memory is still intact...Shall I finish our tale?"

He asked of the others gathered about, Aragorn leaned forwards and nodded enthusiastically, the Hobbits near bouncing on the balls of their feet in excitement, Lady Galadriel and her Lords –and Erestor- smiled knowingly, having been there at the time.

Gimli made some form of 'Harrumph!' noise that Legolas took as assent, whilst feeling the ominous presence of both Maia and Elf-Lord grow in power from both sides...

Arwen leant against his shoulder, her wavy blue sea of hair fell across his shoulder and splayed against his own uniquely-coloured hair, Atheriel had taken to absently running her fingers through the emerald-green hair of the twins beside her, delighting in the situation, of which only she –of the three life mates- was not directly involved.

"_As you will remember, we were amidst a stressful time, our appearances had been thus altered –not unlike our current condition- but it was also soon to be our first meeting with an _edan_, -a king or some-such mortal of import. It was to be interesting, and we were all exceptionally excited, though it seemed a certain wizard was showing no signs of letting up on our so-called punishment._

"_Unfortunately, in our minds, this presented a challenge...to annoy the wizard until he resented his choices and reversed the...'damage'. Therefore, it seemed that the Maia had become uncontrollably clumsy, tardy and ill-tempered, not to mention disorganised –for he was always losing things hither and thither..._

_Some wondered at this change of events, others wisely stood aside and turned a blind eye, not wishing to incur either party's wrath..._

"_Enjoying ourselves immensely by removing important items and documents, locking his door, placing all manner of potions in his outfits and on his possessions...we had made life not unlike that in Mordor for our poor Wizard._

_And unfortunately for us, said wizard was reaching the end of his tether, not to mention patience...we had strayed into dangerous territory in innocent oblivion of how much our lives were endangered by our behaviour..._

"_Finally, one day, he snapped and commanded that if we left him alone, he would return us to our original states; we heartily agreed._

_Revelling in our normal appearances, once again, not realising what Mithrandir had in mind for us all. He, himself, admitted to wanting to revert back to one of Ada's original ideas, and toss us all into the depths of Mordor for Sauron to toy with...but luckily for us, Elrond relented and defended us in a verbal battle of epic proportions._

"_Not realising they had previously come to an agreement...falling back into old ideals, we habitually trailed Elrond about; on occasion commenting about his unique appearance, delighting when he turned to chastise us with a raised eyebrow..._

_For the look of realisation upon his face as he remembered there were none with which to admonish...it was priceless...and well-worth any future repercussions._

"_Or so we thought._

_For as it turned out, we were wrong in that aspect...as I discovered awaking in Arwen's bed, not a startling occurrence in itself, for it was common for one of us to wake in the other's bed... –nay, do not look at us like that! _

_As twins, we often forsook our own beds –even though they were side-by-side- to stay with the other, as did Elladan and Elrohir [whose beds were directly across the room from our own –symmetrically so], in the way of all twins; the pure delight of being close to your other half..._

"_Besides, we were only two-thousand-five-hundred-and-six at the time..."_

Sceptical gazes met his own and he realised he had missed a crucial piece of information; Gimli was looking quite...disapproving, despite his explanation, for surely he did not understand...

"In human terms, we were about...nine or ten...?"

He looked to Gandalf for confirmation; the wizard nodded thoughtfully, and motioned for him to continue as the realisation dawned on several faces.

"Children, nothing indecent, certainly not!

_Well, as it turned out, a squeak from across the room drew our gaze, Elrohir sat upright and began to throttle Elladan, for some unknown reason; when I went to cry out, my voice was higher than usual...it was then I noticed my actual body lying next to me._

_Panicking slightly, I raised a hand to my eyes and saw it was too slender for my own, and wearing the tight sleeve of a night-dress...Arwen –for that's who I naturally assumed was occupying my body- awoke and looked at the now-me with horror. _

_At the same time, we screamed, and detected the sound of loud laughter below in the dining halls. _

_Elladan –who was apparently occupying Elrohir's body at the time-, left off strangling his brother/himself, at our scream, working it out in a second, his jaw dropped and he began to let out some of the most un-elven curses I have ever heard at that age._

_Tell me Gimli, are you aware what, "_Mutha-ghark_" stands for?"_

The fierce blush that spread across the Dwarf's face at the familiar curse confirmed his suspicions, the dwarf sputtered, "Aye, Laddie, but I'll not tell you its dwarven meaning in polite company...But- But where would a pointy-eared elfling learn..._that_?"

Legolas just smiled, knowing full well that the Wizard to his left was slowly shrinking back in his seat to avoid scrutiny...

"_After the initial shock, we all decided it would be best to just act as if nothing had occurred and took to the bathing pool, where Arwen decided to start a splash-battle...it was not until Lord Elrond himself came to retrieve us for midday meal that we realised how long we had been in the bathing pool._

_It was...awkward, attempting to get a dress on...so Arwen assisted. Likewise, she needed help to don my leggings and tunic, unaccustomed to the fabric as she was...for though she could easily have chosen not to, a certain young elven-lady thought herself quite mature and decided she wanted to wear 'pretty dresses' like the older elleth did. _

_It did make tree-climbing difficult for her though..."_

Arwen laughed and gave him a friendly W_hap!_ on the arm,

"At least I always had my own personal wood-elf to assist me in that regard, I cannot even count how many times you had to pull me from a patch of brambles or branches when I became hopelessly entangled!

You know...I always envied how you could ask the trees to release me..."

She said wistfully, a withdrawn look across her features, as she contemplated vast thoughts of awe-inspiring magnitude. Otherwise known as, 'wishing she could talk to trees', quite hard.

He smiled back at his twin; she was beautiful when she was jealous, and also when she was Happy. Sad. Angry. Dangerous. Pensive. Confused...just about always...it seemed. With a glance, he ascertained that he was not the only one of this school of thought, as he caught Aragorn all but drooling over her...

"_In this manner we continued for several days, acting as one another, not that a certain pair of identical twins had any difficulty in that regard...but we ended up enjoying the whole situation, although it was strange._

_Our refusal to voice the incident resulted in the rising ire of a Maia and an Elf-Lord, so the rules were again changed...literally...without our knowledge._

"_At the dawn of the sixth day, we were in the gardens, playing, when everyone became stricken by dizziness and cried out in surprise; Elrond came swiftly as the world faded to darkness. Awakening in another's body is not as strange as it sounds, though it can be disconcerting, for I was in Elladan's body this time._

_From the look of feminine surprise that had never before graced Elrohir's features, I quickly surmised Arwen indeed inhabited his body, and that left..._

"_Elrohir leapt upright and began yelling at a nearby tree, much to the general populace's amusement, and my horror –for he used my body to do so. Elladan carefully sat upright, testing the new, feminine body he was encased in most carefully..._

_I do not remember the exact words, but I do remember Elrohir screaming at the poor Elm to 'Desist it's incessant ramblings and be silent', which I believe is the closest he has ever come to telling another being to 'shut up' –though we all know he would never be so crass._

"_The entire proceedings would not have been quite so surreal if it had not been for the fact we were in the gardens, and unfortunately, the current centre of attention for all of Imladris..._

_Elrond did not help overmuch, standing with an expression of concern partially-masking his obvious mirth; Mithrandir just standing and letting loose booming guffaws...so we excused ourselves and dragged my screaming body –inhabited by Elrohir- back to our rooms._

"_This time, it lasted much longer –long enough for Elrohir to fall into accord with new ability to hear the trees and even holding conversations with them, without undue stress to his sharp intellect- and we found, to each other's delight there were aspects of being in another's body that were useful...especially when requiring an alias._

"_After near a month, Mithrandir took pity upon us –though one cannot fathom why, for we were enjoying ourselves- and changed us back; the extreme dizziness struck us first, then darkness, and finally the comforting weight of one's own limbs was returned to each in turn._

"_It was said that we had been acting of such mature accord during that month and a half, that we deserved to be treated as such...and were...until the Lord of Imladris and Revered Istar, Mithrandir, appeared in the Dining Hall, hair, Mithrandir's beard and Lord Elrond's newly formed and mildly patchy eyebrows the most intriguing shades of purple and green... _

_What can I say? The opportunity for a little revenge presented itself...and we grasped it__ firmly, for all it was worth; also taking the opportunity to run for our immortal lives..._

_None can say we were not...inventive. Though it cost us dearly in the end...but that is a tale for another day..."_

"Now if Mithrandir would be kind enough to change us back...?"

Less of an inquiry, more of a demand...

From the far corner of the room, Lord Elrond grew concerned at the almost-undetectable expressions of weariness slipping through the normally expressionless mask of his elflings, and moved forwards as another flash reverberated about the room. Restoring hair and eye colours to their respective natural states.

Yet it seemed he had no need of voicing his concerns, for as the after-images of the staff's light faded, it seemed that all the 'elflings' within the room had fallen prey to mass unconsciousness.

_Which is preferable_, he mused_, to having to force my tea down each of their respective throats...once I had caught up to each of them, that is..._

Knowing full well there would be no way to coax the Prince from the trees at the outer edge of Imladris, should he get free, remembering times past...

Aragorn started forwards instinctively as Gimli and the Hobbits gave startled cries, for those before them were asleep! With their eyes closed!

The Lady's gentle hand restrained Gimli, with the Lords Celeborne, Glorfindel and Erestor grabbing a Hobbit each, only the soft words of Gandalf gave both he and Frodo pause.

"Leave them, for they were exhausted, though they would tell you no such thing –foolish children!" He admonished, fondly, the slumbering elves draped about the one small bed.

Sam seemed enamoured both by the sight, and the legendary Balrog-slayer that now gripped him firmly –but not unkindly- about the shoulders, in a mildly restraining manner.

Curled protectively around their younger sister and life-long friends, Elladan and Elrohir were twisted upon either end of the bed, Arwen and the others between them. Smiling softly, Atheriel had intertwined a hand –instinctively- with that of Elladan, who rested an arm about the fair-haired archer's waist.

Legolas, for his part, rested his head upon Arwen's chest, her hand resting lightly on one cheek, Atheriel curled into his left side and a slender hand resting gently upon Elladan's arm.

Elrohir stirred, briefly, and both Arwen and Legolas reached up instinctively, to grasp at his hand; they all settled deep into slumber without another conscious thought.

Sam found himself enamoured at their innocent beauty, as they slept, enhanced even more so by the way they slept with their eyes closed –though unnatural for one of their kind. In this state, they looked every inch the children the 'older' elves insisted they were.

Long had he wished to meet one, and had many times over when their perilous journey had drawn them to Rivendell...then to his delight, an Elf had joined them on the Quest...though, to his chagrin, they were separated afore he could truly get to know him.

Awakening in Rivendell at the completion of the great quest had made him wonder whether or not they actually _had_ perished upon Mount Doom...for they had been surrounded by –Valar be praised!- elves!

Masters Merry and Pippin had not ceased in their light-hearted teasing, having found out about the species-wide crush he held for Elves, and how it rivalled his infatuation for Rosie, back in the Shire!

As ever, Master Frodo had bade them leave him alone and asked, as a treat, if Lord Elrond would mind taking a few elves aside to accompany and tutor Sam, so he could learn elvish or some such purpose. Frodo had always highly valued Sam's friendship and sought to give him whatever it was he desired now that the life-threatening part of their camaraderie had passed...

"Well, Master Samwise, it seems as if those young hellions are finally abed, would you believe me if I told you they were slightly more dangerous when they were younger?" Lord Glorfindel smiled down upon him, and the Hobbit had no choice but to laugh.

Images of hobbit-sized elflings running about causing chaos whilst a stressed Balrog-slayer gave chase, holding –with all due thanks to an artistic flourish of Sam's mind- a large net; and a near-postal Lord Elrond giving chase without concern for appearances, the Lords Erestor, Celeborne and the Lady Galadriel leaping upon all five children from the tree-tops...these images and more pervaded his mind's eye...so much so he found he had to share them.

Whispering aloud the scene he imagined, slightly hesitantly, the Gardner-turned-Hero felt a surge of relief as Glorfindel tossed his golden-haired head back and laughed, mirrored by that of the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborne –most likely due to the image of themselves nested in a tree...

Gandalf snorted into his beard...actually remembering a similar occurrence, oh, so many years ago...

With a last look at his friends and family, Aragorn Estel Elrondion, turned to leave as he felt the world slide off it's axis, slightly. For some of the bitter, all-but-frozen-it-was-so-cold, herb tea Lord Celeborne had forced him to imbibe earlier [though less potent than when it is hot] was working its magic.

Turning around slowly, so as not to arouse suspicion, he noted how Elrond and Gandalf left the room, deep in conversation; with the Lady Galadriel swiftly in tow, laughing merrily at Gimli's descriptions of his ancestral home. Omitting the unfortunate goblin infestation, of course...

Merry and Pippin squirmed like puppies in the arms of Lord Erestor and Celeborne, both listening intently to the animated conversation of –none other than- Sam!, who spoke directly to Lord Glorfindel of his garden at home. His plans for its future and wondering whether he could convince one of Lothlorien's Golden Mallorn trees to grow in the Shire...?

He smiled as they exited the room, never would he have guessed the nervous little Hobbit to be so comfortable about his near-worshipped Elves, but miracles do happen...

The world tilted again, he fell to a knee and closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the sensation pass, he stood again and attempted to take a step forwards...only to be stopped by a strong tugging sensation.

Turning –a little too swiftly, for dots flashed across his vision- he noted how two sets of bleary blue eyes gazed out from under heavy-hooded lids, two hands outstretched and grasping his cloak.

Aragorn –nay, Estel- gazed down on them, as they drew him back slowly, so he would not fall; those on the bed shifting unconsciously to make room for the new addition...he slid in between Arwen and Legolas, feeling them shift to him and Elrohir's hand fell to rest lightly upon his chest.

Not unlike when he was a child and they all fell asleep under a convenient tree somewhere in the Imladrian fields...though, the addition of Atheriel and the soft thudding of the twin heartbeats was a welcome surprise.

Even across from him, he could hear them; the rhythm lulled them all to sleep again...

Gazing back through the doorway, Elrond –and afterwards, many others- was reluctant to wake them, for his heart was both lifted and constricted at the sight before him; the beauty of their bodies and the way Estel had been absorbed into their fold so easily...

His children. Now and, Valar-willing, for all eternity.

Though his heart cried out that soon he may lose more than one, for the time to confront an ancient, festering evil, was at hand.

When they awoke...they would face Thranduil, in full glory of his mad, dark powers...

And Elrond feared the outcome.

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Review Please!^^

_**Elvish Used:**_

_**~Mellon-nin: My Friend**_

_**~Ada/Adar: Dad, Daddy, Father, etc.**_

_**~Tithen Pen/Tithen Penne: Little One/Little Ones**_

_**~Nanneth: Mum, Mother, Mummy, etc.**_

_**~Gwador: Brother**_

_**~Muindor: Sister**_

_**~Ernil: Prince [Tithen Ernil: Princeling!^^]**_

_**~Melleth: Love/Beloved [Melleth-nin: My Love/Beloved]**_

_**~Ellon: Male Elf**_

_**~Ellith: Female Elf**_

_**~Edain/Edan: Man/Humans**_

_**~Perrien: Hobbits**_

_**~Perion: Half-son**_

_**~Ion: Son**_

_**~Saes: Please**_

_**~Hannon le: Thank you**_

_**~Havo Dad: Kill Him/Stop Him**_

_**~Mae Govannon: Greeting...**_


	15. Chapter 14: Bind the Festering Darkness

**Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of it's characters...if I did, why would Legolas be on that Quest? He'd be here, with me, doing lots of chores...shirtless...*EPIC GRIN***

**This Chapter: Partings, Promises and a Royal Pillowfight of Epic Proportions in Gondor, Not to mention, Erestor is going slowly Crazy! Somebody help the Elf! Elladan & Elrohir use a bad pun! So does everyone else! XD**

**And Mortal Combat! -Of the Soft and Fluffy Kind!-**

**SneakPeek: **"Though the Dwarf, Gimli, did grumble about '_Stupid__ Bloody Elves_...' -and their general inability to, '_...distinguish between the pointy and dull end of a blade..._', -into the overly stimulated, bushy expanse he called a beard.

Which, disturbingly, seemed to agree with him..."

**Enjoy!^^**

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**Chapter 14: Bind the Festering Darkness, or Walk Away**

Saddled, and shining in the dawn's early light of the third day since Mithrandir had 'aided their sleep', the Rohirrm horse, Arod awaited his newly-awakened master and the grumbling half-creature that accompanied the elf, everywhere.

Legolas breathed deeply in the scent of new-green leaves, sunlight bathing his body, it was quite refreshing, to be in Imladris, again. Dimly, he heard the others awakening, Atheriel stretched slowly, Arwen guiding her upright slowly and carefully; Elladan making a rude remark about how his twin must be 'happy to see him or did he have a banana stowed in his robes?'.

Aragorn groaned and rose upright, shaking his head like a horse, much to the Prince's amusement. He stood to the side of the great window, shadows falling about him like soft material, Elrohir let out a squeak when he noticed and Atheriel let out a panicked, "_Melleth?_"

Echoed swiftly by Elladan, casting their gaze about the room, Elrohir going as far as looking under, both the bed they were on, _and_ the neighbouring beds, for his twin's peace of mind. Aragorn, nay Estel's, face registered surprise, then a smug grin as both his and Arwen's eyes made contact with his own; he stepped forwards into the light, shining with delight.

Those present let out a sigh of relief, rolling five pairs of eyes skywards at his antics. From somewhere in Imladris, a pained shriek could be heard, screaming,

"For the love of the Valar! Stop doing that!"

There was a distinctive moment of silence, then ringing, melodic laughter echoed off the walls in time with the arrival of certain Dwarf, several Elven Lords, and the Great Lady herself.

"It is good to find you well, _tithen penne nin,_ for you have a great journey ahead of you," Greeted the Great Lady, Galadriel, as she strode into the room; an arm resting upon Celeborne's own.

Glorfindel was too busy supporting a pained-looking Erestor to allow for any other form of contact with his Lady...or Lord, for that matter; Aragorn chocked back a laugh at the dark-haired Librarian's expression, both exasperated and weary from the constant stresses of continual eye-rolling from his former...-dare he think it?-..._pupils!_

"Finally!" a voice exclaimed gruffly, "I thought ye was going to spend the next hundred years asleep, the way the lot of you were going!"

Hidden concern edged through the careful facade of nonchalance and blatant disregard for the 'Bloody elf..._el__ves_' -now it seemed-, for he was growing quite fond of the others...though they seemed completely backward in contrast to Dwarven sensibilities...

"Ah, Gimli, just the person one wants to wake up and see...if only to remind us all no elf can _possibly_ look that bad of a morning, therefore giving us a reason to live!" jested the archer, with an infuriatingly innocent smile, as if he had just politely commented on another's new robes...

Elrond had to forcefully restrain the Dwarf before he could lay a hand on the infuriating Princeling, it brought a smile to his face, such youthful energy...

"Would you all be so damn cheerful if I told you that you have all slept for nearly three days?" queried the Dwarf, somewhat maliciously, to the shocked silence of the Healing Halls.

"Wha-?" mouthed Elladan, obviously trying to comprehend –or at the very least _process_- what Gimli had just said, "Three days...?"

Everyone was mildly silent, until Atheriel moved forwards to Lord Elrond, a worried expression on her face; the Elf-Lord patted her arm kindly and fore-stalled her question, "Nay, my child, they are well. I checked on all of you from time to time, see to your wrists."

With an expression of ill-comprehension, three of those gathered tugged at the fresh bandages –appearing to have been changed recently- on both wrists, gazing at the diminished angry red, of the thin slashes down their forearms.

Nearly completely healed.

"In a month's time, you will not be able to even see them, as if they never were..." Elrond said in an airy though authoritative tone, the unspoken '_Never do it again_' part of the statement was non-verbal, but felt as if it had been shouted with great enthusiasm and vehemence...

"Come," motioned Lord Celeborne, "We must have you breakfasted and ready to ride shortly, for some of you are to Gondor. Nay Atheriel, you will not go, though it seems that Arwen and the Hobbits will stay here with you...though I do not know if the latter is a gift or a curse..." he trailed.

Seated about the Dining Hall, the inhabitants of Imladris gazed about at one another, eating demurely. Except for the Hobbits, of course, who were veraciously attacking the roasted venison that had been presented _specifically_ for them, as if it were a dangerous enemy.

Surprisingly, the 'Sleepers' -as they had become known throughout Rivendell, were also eating quite a fair share of their portions, though with slightly more restraint than the Perinneth...surprising all at the table.

Especially the Dwarf, who saw no need to restrain his mouth from asking what was on all their minds, "What's this now? I've never seen you or the others more than pick at your food! Are you six intending to devour that suckling pig alone, or can the rest of us have some?'

The mentioned six looked more than chastised, Legolas and Arwen turning on their most 'innocent' of expressions, and the Prince asked, "Why Gimli, of course not! In fact, we were just discussing how best to cook Dwarf...for it is such a rough, flavourless meat..."

He trailed off and ducked, just in time to avoid losing his head to Gimli's axe, Aragorn fell off his seat laughing and the twins ducked under the table –presumably to avoid the flying weaponry, or perhaps not...as the Dwarf gave a startled yelp [which he would blatantly refute, later] and appeared to disappear under the table...rather unwillingly.

Rather crass-sounding Dwarven curses shot out from under the table, intermittent with elvish laughter and the sounds of a fight, someone else made an undignified yelp and a flash of disappearing blond, indicated Legolas had been drawn into the fight...

Arwen, a tad disappointed at being left out, grabbed her fork –for Lord Elrond had bade the servants remove any potentially-lethal objects about [including knives] to be removed from reaching hands that appeared from under the table, periodically- and dived under to save her twin.

An hour later, five slightly-dishevelled combatants stood at the front of the Halls, smoothing down hair and clothing in order to attain some level of dignity; easily achieved for the elves...not so much for the dwarf...

Although, as a certain Elf-Prince pointed out –to a fuming Dwarf- it wasn't that much of a loss for Middle Earth in general...and the entire fight nearly re-started there and then!

Lord Elrond bade them a swift journey, and turned to speak privately to the fuming Evenstar –who desperately wanted to go- whilst Elladan and Legolas spoke words of parting to Atheriel.

"I also wish you could come, _melleth_, but you know as well as I, the roads are too long and dangerous for you...for them...we cannot risk any of you." The archer soothed, Elladan rubbing the elleth's back, "Next time, maybe, after the twins are born; then you may travel to Minas Tirith safely-..."

"Safe? Of course she shall be safe!" interjected a voice, "For I shall personally see to it that the entire of Gondor's royal guard shall accompany you thence!"

Arwen smiled at his tone, half-jest and half-seriousness, Legolas turned to face Aragorn, smiling slightly, "You know, _edan_, I _will_ hold you to that..."

With the Hobbits milling about her feet, the Lady Atheriel was truly a beautiful sight, all four were speaking quickly and promising to keep her safe or make certain she had enough of something or other...probably food...both to her, but also to Legolas and Elladan.

With a quick kiss for each of her lifemates, they turned and swung up onto their horses, joining the other already-seated riders, Legolas leaning down to pull the Dwarf upon Arod.

Elladan, Elrohir, Legolas, Gimli, Mithrandir and Aragorn rode out from the gates with all haste, heading towards Gondor.

And an uncertain fate.

Lead by Estel, lead by Hope...

Fanfare such as was seen when they rode into Gondor, was reminiscent of the parade thrown for the Ring-Bearer upon his return to health and subsequent triumphant visit to Minas Tirith, a fond memory that drew smiles from all three former Hunters.

Though certain persons in the entourage found they would prefer to raise their hoods than face the curious scrutiny of those who had barely ever _heard _of elves, let alone_ seen _one...much to Gandalf's amusement.

And also that of the blasted Dwarf, who loudly commented on the Firstborn's great battle-prowess –much to said elves embarrassment- only to then turnabout and chastise them (loudly) for being afraid of mere children...

It was not until a high, clear voice rang out in warning that he may soon find himself unhorsed should the verbal tirade continue...that Gimli was silenced.

Lounging back upon the luxurious bed that adorned the stark, cold stone of their quarters, Legolas found himself fervently wishing to be back in Imladris, for this place was so lifeless. Even though Gimli was insistent that these bare, barren walls held 'character' and were guided by dwarven hands to full perfection...it still felt like a cage.

And all in the Fellowship were aware of how much Elves disliked enclosed spaces...Aragorn had to explain it to them, about the same time as the Elf had begun to slowly suffocate, as the too-solid walls of stone and darkness that was Moria, closed in...Metaphorically, of course. Though it had felt oh, too real, at the time...

Although Legolas had no desire for this one elven weakness to be known, his companions had grown concerned when, first his natural light had dimmed, then his pallor had gone the foreboding shade of bone-white. Easily matching the knuckles on both fair hands, where they grasped the Mirkwood bow in near-paralysed fear and determination...

Eyes wide and almost imperceptibly starting at every small sound, stiffening until he knew from whence it came...

This had not gone unnoticed.

And it had seemed no amount of strained smiles and gentle, whispered, reassurances would assure them of his continued health, Boromir all but striking him to find the truth...in concern, of course...

He never had thought ill of the _edan_ for that, even though Aragorn had caught the hand before it fell; the Steward-son was merely afraid for his welfare...and –as always- he was being "Stubborn to a fault..." –or so Aragorn had quoted Lord Elrond...to all present, and regaled them with tales of said 'stubbornness' at the evening meal...

Legolas had thought upon killing his annoying 'younger brother', perhaps smothering him in the dead of night, with his own pillow, but decided against it...eventually...

Even though it embarrassed the Elf considerably to hear Aragorn's passionate, and fear-filled accounts of attempting to save the immortal life of a _certain Prince,_ who would ride into Imladris –accompanied by wounded companions or alone- near dead. Protesting their ridiculous concern and fuss over –what he deemed to be, '_Just a Scratch_!'

Usually turning out to be something life-threatening [though Aragorn _was_ being a tad over-dramatic to his ears]...

The fair-haired archer did not miss the pointed 'Healer's _death glare_' [so to speak] being thrown in his direction at the time, nor Gandalf's disapproving gaze, or indeed the general awe emanating from the Hobbits; though he found himself all but basking in the Gondorian Captain's dawning respect. For it was a welcome distraction in the midst of such oppressive disapproval...

Though the Dwarf, Gimli, did grumble about '_Stupid__ Bloody Elves_...' -and their general inability to, '_...distinguish between the pointy and dull end of a blade..._', -into the overly stimulated, bushy expanse he called a beard.

Which, disturbingly, seemed to agree with him...

All had seemed rather chastised –none more than said Dwarf- when they learned of the race-wide 'affliction' of elves, and felt generally awful for tarrying so long in this dark place, whilst their star faded...

All had taken it upon themselves to help him, and he in turn had re-payed the favour, with his swift arrows, soft words and light, his songs and tales, lifting many a weakened and weary resolve...afore the end.

He smiled, remembering how shy Sam, and poor, burdened Frodo, had walked beside him, discussing complete nothings in depth in order to distract him...

Merry and Pippin being slightly more...enthusiastic in their distractions...he never knew when one would burst from the shadows and leap upon a member of the Fellowship, before swiftly disappearing into the shadows, a strange [often random-sounding] word or phrase left echoing in their wake...generally food-related...

He had particularly enjoyed the time the pair had ambushed both Aragorn and Boromir, before disappearing into the folds of shadow, a loud, lingering, "BANANAS!" in their wake...

His companions had tolerated the activities for his sake, generally assuming it was probably easier [and safer] to deal with the Hobbits than a half-crazed, wall-climbing elf...and Aragorn _knowing_ so...

And he had proven true, eventually, with his skills and natural elven-enhanced senses, warning them of the Orcs...but not the Balrog...that was his greatest regret. If only he had mastered his fear, maybe...

"Maybe Gandalf wouldn't have fallen?" a voice broke through his reminiscing, causing him to start and fall off the bed; landing –quite undignifiedly- on the floor, entangled in the cover sheet and a pillow bouncing by his right ear, cheerfully.

"ELLADAN!" he near-shouted, slender hand over his racing heart, neck craning to look up at the calm –yet somehow smug-looking- elf that towered above him. "You promised you wouldn't attempt to read my thoughts without permission, as did I, and you do not 'see' me prying into your innermost ideas!"

The other tilted his head in innocent 'contemplation', before offering the floor-bound Prince a hand, his lips twitching slightly –though not quite daring to smile, Bond or not, his life wasn't worth _that_ much...

"Truly, I am sorry for my intrusion, but it was not my intention to pry...you just happened to be thinking...particularly _hard_ about the situation and it drew my attention." He paused to draw breath, looked back sadly and threw on a rather over-done 'pathetic' expression.

"Do you...do you still love me...?" he half-simpered, lips twitching into a child-like pout, emerald-green eyes full of mirth.

The Prince ended up laughing so hard he had to sit down or risk falling on the cold stone floor again. The Imladrian threw a pillow at his head, pouting lips transforming to a radiant, mischievous beaming smile that matched his eyes; the Prince ducked quickly, grabbing another nearby feather-packed weapon and leapt forwards...

It was only a few minutes later when the large wooden door creaked open to reveal quite an amusing sight...

It seemed the young Prince had managed to get the upper hand and had been in the process of bludgeoning his opponent about the head with his feather-spewing pillow of doom; whilst said opponent was in the process of slamming his own pillow into the side of the fair-haired archer with enough force to kill a man. All in jest, of course.

It could almost be mistaken for a heroic scene, provided of course, one allowed a certain amount of leeway for the assumed weapons and mentally disregarded the slowly falling, large white feathers that the air seemed heavily laden with...

Aragorn, - 'King Elessar' within the confines of his Kingdom- leant against the doorway, smirking, whilst Gimli roared his amusement and Mithrandir muttered dark curses about 'elflings' and how 'feeding them to Wargs would be cruel...to the Wargs.'

Steel rang out against stone as a near-by serving-woman let an empty cup slide to the ground, as she stood agape at the two ethereal beings, now frozen in mid-combat, acting as children...His Royal Majesty whispered something in her ears and somehow elicited a promise to never repeat the occurrences to another living soul, before bidding her go on her way...

From the corner of her eye, she saw another dark-haired figure dart into the room –almost identical to one in the room- followed swiftly by the King, himself!

She smiled knowingly and wandered away down the hallway to the sounds of 'mortal combat'...of the soft and fluffy kind...

Roiling in the Darkness of Mirkwood, -and his own soul- what was once Thranduil, plotted.

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**Hope you Liked it, please Review!^^**

**Next Chapter: The Conclusion of the pillowfight, the Mystery of Aragorn's Limp, How to [Royally] Piss off a Rohirric King! Gimli & Eomer join Forces! Legolas is one Very Dead Elf! All this and More in "Chapter 15: We Are Who We Are"**

**_Elvish Used:_**

_**~Mellon-nin: My Friend**_

_**~Ada/Adar: Dad, Daddy, Father, etc.**_

_**~Tithen Pen/Tithen Penne: Little One/Little Ones**_

_**~Nanneth: Mum, Mother, Mummy, etc.**_

_**~Gwador: Brother**_

_**~Muindor: Sister**_

_**~Ernil: Prince [Tithen Ernil: Princeling!^^]**_

_**~Melleth: Love/Beloved [Melleth-nin: My Love/Beloved]**_

_**~Ellon: Male Elf**_

_**~Ellith: Female Elf**_

_**~Edain/Edan: Man/Humans**_

_**~Perrien: Hobbits**_

_**~Perion: Half-son**_

_**~Ion: Son**_

_**~Saes: Please**_

_**~Hannon le: Thank you**_

_**~Havo Dad: Kill Him/Stop Him**_

_**~Mae Govannon: Greeting...**_


	16. Chapter 15: We Are Who We Are

**Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of it's characters...if I did, why would Legolas be on that Quest? He'd be here, with me, doing lots of chores...shirtless...*EPIC GRIN***

**This Chapter: Aragorn is Mortally Wounded...by a pillow...or at least, that's what he says... Dark Dreams and Scary-ness abounds! Eomer & Gimli are a Dynamic Duo, bent on bringing down The Twins & Legolas! Why? How? Who Cares? Just Run, Elves, Run!**

**Sneak Peek: "...**At least, until the Lord Eomer, -King of Rohan-, himself, burst through the doors, all-but-screaming, "Get back here, you-...you-..._Bloody_ _elf!_"

**Sneak Peek the 2nd:** "Fire, it was an element that all-but-shot-forth from the King's eyes, steam from his ears..." [I love that line! XD]

Much to the amusement of a certain Dwarf, who merely muttered, "Harrumph! That's _my_ line...you horse-loving idiot!" "

**ENJOY!^^**

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**Chapter 15: We Are Who We Are...**

"It seems you three...need to...expend some...energy..." the now-King of Gondor wheezed, doubled over and grasping his knees, much to the infuriating amusement of Elrohir, and the blasted blond-haired elf who had struck him the glancing blow to the side.

...Winding him instantly.

Elladan would have proffered some interesting retort or other...were it not for the fact he was currently gazing _up_ at the former-Ranger. Having been felled by a mighty blow from his twin, earlier, ears still ringing from the impact...

"Tru-..._Truce_!" cried Aragorn hoarsely, both hands raised in a somewhat placatory/warding gesture...

Blast those Valar-cursed brothers of his! Blue eyes turned from his to meet the deep green of the other, symmetrical grins were haphazardly strewn across once-innocent faces, as they turned –in pure synchronicity- to face him, pillows raised...

Later, Aragorn refused to elaborate further on the manner in which he acquired his slight limp...

Flaring white fabric caught his attention, costing him dear seconds as his opponent slashed to the right, the distraction cause enough for the Prince to lose his correct footing in the attempted evasion. Leaving himself completely open to full-frontal attack...

Elrohir seized the opportunity, leaning back from his previous strike and swinging in from another direction, targeting the shimmering, white-hafted blade, within the archer's right hand –nearest him. Simultaneously twisting his body in synchronicity to his strike, slamming his knee into the back of Legolas's thigh; causing him to stumble onto one knee before bounding –infuriatingly- upright, once again.

Flashing steel, sunlight, a writhing movement to avoid a blow, caught and parried...the full-force of a body crushes the Elven-Prince to the hard ground, hands scrabble at the weapons he maintains a firm grasp of.

Cursing, writhing, a backhand to the face...that was a surprise...applause...?

No time to ponder the strange back-ground noises that streamed about the pair as they fought, in a slightly more dignified manner than the uncouth _edan_ version of 'tooth and nail'...though it was fairly close...

Watching the movement of his body, his opponent's and the relative positioning of their weapons, Legolas swung a fist into the side of Elrohir's head, flipping him upright and attempting to roll free...only to feel an arm yanked –all but out of its socket- by a firm grasp.

Again, a flash of white fabric on the breeze, blood...what? _Something_..._beyond his reach_...

Pure physical manipulation brought his mind to the present and his current situation again, the vague vision pushed to the back of his conscious thoughts, survival counted for more –a certainty that would most assuredly be waived if either of them were forced to return to Imladris, injured...Lord Elrond's ire was legendary...especially to those who had lived it.

His wrist impacted the ground with a dull crack and the throbbing turned to a seeping numbness, forcing him to relinquish the knife, for he had no nerves left with which to grasp it. The other was wrenched from his grip, in a surprising twist of fate.

Something heavy situated itself just below his stomach, gazing upwards, the Prince was surprised at the sight that greeted him...

Elrohir had straddled him, pinning both his arms down with his knees –in what he surely believed was a 'firm position'- one of the archer's own knives pointed downwards towards a pale throat in victory. For the first time in a long time, victory was his at last!

"Do you Yield?" he asked of the being 'trapped' beneath him.

If Elrohir had blinked, the Imladrian would have missed how swiftly the Prince freed himself, arms shooting upwards as he surged upright at the waist...catching the young Lord in a passionate kiss.

Caught somewhere between shock and surprise...the elder elf dropped his recently-acquired weapons, unsure whether to be affronted or enjoy himself...

Legolas took the choice from him.

Seizing the upper hand, the Prince surged upright and flipped the other, reversing their roles before Elrohir could blink...

"Yield?" he teased the bewildered elf, who sighed in defeat, "Fine..." there was no denying the childish whine in his voice...

Rolling upright, he offered Elrohir his hand upright, almost dropping the half-straightened elf in shock as a booming, yet familiar voice rang out behind him, over the surging roar of the crowd's exhilaration.

_-For at this point, sensitive elven hearing and their famed eyesight descried a huge crowd of soldiers, lords, ladies and common-folk watching their antics from the safety of nearby battlements, overlooking the Training Fields..._

"Tis strange, my Lords, I don't recall that being a standard battle technique...?" enquired the innocent-looking King of Rohan. His features shifted into an almost demonic visage as he opened his mouth to further goad the combatants from the sidelines, when Aragorn clasped a hand about his shoulders.

"Don't be petty, _your Majesty_, we all know you're merely a trifle jealous!" he quipped, loudly.

A broad grin spread over the Elf's features as he surveyed Eomer, appraising eyes showing mocking appreciation, the King felt somewhat pleased when he knew he should be affronted; settling for further pestering the beautiful creature –with a sideways glance of disapproval at Aragorn for his earlier statement,

"Oh, if I assume –correctly- that that is part of a highly secretive Elven _Battle Technique_ employed over _centuries_..." the light-hearted sarcasm dripped from his voice, "Then it stands to reason that you will not mind my next question..."

The blond-elf tilted his fair head in amused, yet wary, confusion...

"Have you ever tried that on an Orc...? If so, does it work...? For if so, I shall have to incorporate it into the Rohirrm's training..."

The Elf considered his words for a second, a flash of anger brightening to mischievous proportions...

"Nay, my Lord, but if your Grace will come but a little closer, I will be able to attest to its effectiveness against Orcs..." Legolas cried and raced desperately for the safe haven of Minas Tirith's stone gateway, Elrohir swiftly on his tail...

Aragorn, to put it mildly, '_lost the Royal Composure_' and collapsed to the ground, laughing –not unlike half of those who had just witnessed the exchange...

Eomer, having taken a moment to decipher the hidden insult within the honeyed words, was trapped; unable to decide whether to forego his 'Royal Composure' or be furiously angry...

Reaching a mental consensus with himself, -both the Kingly and Warrior facets of his personality-, he turned and gave chase.

"Did we lose him?" a blond streak yelled over his shoulder, to the trailing Noldor-elf, as they tore the pavement up, racing through the city towards the ever-encroaching Palace.

"He is quite a persistent _edan_, little brother, so I suggest we run faster, 'afore he catches us!" Elrohir yelled back, feeling the burst of relief as they swiftly passed through the front doors of the Gondorian Royal Abode.

Servants -long since used to such antics from their Elven guests- merely took a moment to let their gazes encompass the pair, noticing no injuries or ailments, merely turned and went back to their daily tasks...

At least, until the Lord Eomer, -King of Rohan-, himself, burst through the doors, all-but-screaming, "Get back here, you-...you-..._Bloody_ _elf!_"

Much to the amusement of a certain Dwarf, who merely muttered, "Harrumph! That's _my_ line...you horse-loving idiot!"

Servants sucked in gasps and prayed they didn't have to clean the Dwarf's remains from the ceiling...when the red-faced, 'vein-throbbing-in-his-temple' angry, King of Rohan turned his full ire on Gimli...and burst out laughing.

"Gimli, you survived! Though I must say, when I get my hands on your Elven body-guard, I swear by the Valar, I'll...I'm going to- ...I'll...and he's going to..._**Gah**_!"

Gimli laughed, "He seems to have that effect on everyone he meets...myself especially...yet Aragorn _still_ won't let me kill him! I just don't understand it..." he shook his bearded head sadly...

"LEGOLAS!"

Less of an invitation to dinner as a command to come as swiftly as possible, so the Elven-Prince merely laid back down upon his covers and settled to the mattress' unique curvature...feeling sleep steal upon him...

Only to be forestalled by a pair of hands roughly shaking his shoulders, Elladan.

"Get _up_!" the Noldor hissed, shaking his lifemate with greater fervour; Legolas felt his teeth rattle as the world flashed by in different streaks of colour...

"Aragorn may look to your antics as funny, _melleth_, but that dratted Dwarf has been fuelling Eomer's rage with stories of –as he puts it- 'personal tragedies' that you had a hand in...and it does not bode well...for either of us."

Legolas would have answered, but he felt so tired...the feeling passing to Elladan, whose face grew concerned. "Wake up, listen to me! This is important...!" A hint of desperation wove through the tone, catching his attention briefly.

The piercing blue-eyed gaze before him fell away as they glazed over, he felt as if he should call out for aid...but the only sound he made was a strangled squeak, before the eyes forcibly cleared –briefly.

A sensation of total weariness stole over him too...frightening the Imladrian, for never before had he been so weary without cause...and yet it was only the shared overflow of his archer's emotions...

A thought that terrified him.

And yet, he found he had tumbled upon the bedspread, legs no longer supporting his, suddenly too-heavy, body; as his eyes forcefully glazed over in sleep, and he sank into swirling oblivion, his last thoughts were to seek solace in the touch of another and moved his head upon the barely-moving chest beside him...

Fire, it was an element that all-but-shot-forth from the King's eyes, steam from his ears...Faramir and Eowyn trailed behind, trying to assuage him from blatantly throttling the blond Eldar with his own bare hands...

Gimli wandering absently behind, a smile on his face –though one could never be sure, what with the beard...

Eomer strode to the rear of the group also, fearing what he had sparked here, and ever-ready to leap in with forgiveness to avoid any unnecessary deaths...

The heavy wooden door to the Elves' chamber slammed open and almost fully rebounded of the unforgiving stone wall, Aragorn storming in, fists clenched tightly by his side in fury...only to pause.

Faramir watched in wonder as the King's entire body seemed to metamorphosis before their eyes; concern etched over his features as he surveyed those within the chamber...

Two lithe figures were spread out upon the bedspread, looking as though another hand dropped them there, from a great height, for they looked slightly dishevelled and..._broken_...for no other word could express the horrifying scene so well.

Normally calm complexions were pale and sweaty, faces contorting briefly into pained expressions, and bodies twitching every so often...worst of all, was their lack of response...

Aragorn nearly raced to them as he noticed how their eyes were shut reflexively against whatever plagued them, jaws clenched rigidly shut, mouths a grim line of determination, to avoid screaming at...what?

No sooner had the group taken a step inside the room, when dark mists appeared to lace the world about the pair; who began to violently spasm in response to its touch, muscles contorting painfully as their bodies jerked uncontrollably.

Two sets of eyes snapping open in fear...yet they showed no signs of waking...

"Fetch Gandalf !" cried the King, Faramir hurried to obey, Eowyn clinging to her brother in order to remain upright, a loud clanging that rang down the hallway announced Gimli had dropped his axe.

For his part, Eomer merely stood with mouth gaping, like a fish...totally useless.

The dark-haired elf, Elrohir? ...nay, that was his twin; this one was...Elle- Ellar_done_? Ella_dune_? Ell_adan_?

**Elladan!**

Elladan, then, twisted and writhed, fingers reflexively grasping the green tunic of the elven-prince whose chest his head rested upon. Sweat soaked their hair and clothing, droplets forming on fair brows and falling to the near-sodden sheets, it was such a sad sight to see such powerful and beautiful creatures reduced to such a ...pitiful...aye, _pitiful_ state.

And whilst he watched, uselessly, he wondered what transpired in their minds...

~~~~~~~~~~~**_~~)_0_(~~_**~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_**Swirling, writhing darkness, tainting the souls of everything it contacted...it stretched out phantom limbs to them...to the beautiful creatures' dismay!**_

_**Nowhere to run, to hide, nothing to shrink against in the evasion of the encroaching darkness...**_

_**Elladan screamed first, Legolas felt horror well from within, he pushed forwards and shoved his Melleth from the creature's embrace; surrendering himself in the process, as pain and dark visions enveloped his mind, he felt a grim satisfaction.**_

_**Better he, than those he loved, as he heard the souls of Atheriel and Elladan cry out to him...**_

_Blood. Screams in the Dark... Leaves. The forest he loved so dearly... Screaming faces distorted in unimaginable agony, slicing pain, fire and ice..._

_Atheriel holding hands to her slashed-open stomach...Elladan trying to scream with blood pouring from his slit throat...two infants brutalised and bloody at his feet..._

_**Images poured thick and fast, directly into his stunned mind, still he refused to cry out, refuting their authenticity...**_

_The intensity rose a fraction and he was left lying on a forest floor as blood pooled about his body, he could feel several half-healed wounds shriek in agony as he moved...above the still, bloody forms of those he held dear –Atheriel, Elladan, Elrohir, Aragorn, Arwen, Naanine & Naatirri... Faramir, Eowyn, Eomer, the Hobbits...and, aye, the Dwarf- stood a gloating, blood-spattered, and beaming Thranduil._

_In slow-motion, the Lords, Elrond, Glorfindel, Erestor and Celeborne fought alongside the Lady Galadriel and Mithrandir to reach them...to no avail...as the King merely saluted them –mockingly- and turned away...bearing a squalling infant in either arm..._

"_Noooo!" he screamed, trying to raise an arm after the retreating figure...but it felt too heavy..._

_**A gloating voice filled his tortured mind, "This is the Future, Child, it is in your power to change it...would you?"**_

"_Yes__**!" he shrieked to the darkness, world spinning dizzily, as two other figures appeared and caught him...they shielded him –eyes brimming with concern as the dark presence retreated.**_

_**It whispered back menacingly, "Of yourself, a sacrifice must be made...or all shall fall...appease the one who seeks your destruction and all will be well...else..."**_

_**The threat of harm to his dear ones...it was too much... **_

"_Anything...__**" he half-whispered, half-promised, before a cleansing white light shone through the darkness; a white-robed figure ambled in, unhurriedly, to gaze at the three elves.**_

"_**It seems, that it is time for you all to wake up..." announced Gandalf, with an extravagant –and highly unnecessary- gesture of his arm...**_

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Hope you Enjoyed it!^^

**Next Chapter: Wizard-Tossing, Silent Revelations, Daring escape and crushed souls! Gimli won;t stop poking Legolas...Awkward moment...**

_**Elvish Used:**_

_**~Mellon-nin: My Friend**_

_**~Ada/Adar: Dad, Daddy, Father, etc.**_

_**~Tithen Pen/Tithen Penne: Little One/Little Ones**_

_**~Nanneth: Mum, Mother, Mummy, etc.**_

_**~Gwador: Brother**_

_**~Muindor: Sister**_

_**~Ernil: Prince [Tithen Ernil: Princeling!^^]**_

_**~Melleth: Love/Beloved [Melleth-nin: My Love/Beloved]**_

_**~Ellon: Male Elf**_

_**~Ellith: Female Elf**_

_**~Edain/Edan: Man/Humans**_

_**~Perrien: Hobbits**_

_**~Perion: Half-son**_

_**~Ion: Son**_

_**~Saes: Please**_

_**~Hannon le: Thank you**_

_**~Havo Dad: Kill Him/Stop Him**_

_**~Mae Govannon: Greeting...**_


	17. Chapter 16: Ocean & Forest, Burning

**Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of it's characters...if I did, why would Legolas be on that Quest? He'd be here, with me, doing lots of chores...shirtless...*EPIC GRIN***

**This Chapter: Legolas wins Gold in Wizard-Tossing, Gimli cannot stop poking the Elf, Inner turmoil...Lots of angsty desperation and a need for escape...**

**Sneak Peek: **" "You know, elfling, last time you did that, you were only two-thousand...and about yea-high..." He indicated somewhere about chest-height, vaguely.

"And if you'll remember, I believe you and the Lady Arwen spent the next week looking out through one-another's eyes..." "

**Relatively short for one of my Chapters, but I hope you enjoy anyway!^^**

* * *

**Chapter 16: Ocean and Forest, Burning...**

"...time for you to wake up..." murmured the wizard, in deep concentration; a hand hovering over the two elves, eyes closed, the other grasping the glowing staff that flared a brilliant white.

Cool Ocean blues and Deep Forest greens blinked, gazing back at the Maia, both shaking as if from exertion, this frightened Aragorn more than any scream could have...and he moved forwards to tend to them.

Elladan still rested upon the archer's chest, fingers only now uncurling unsteadily from the bunched tunic. They eyed him warily, as if afraid of attack, and he made a placatory gesture as he moved forwards –their scrutiny almost unbearable...was he not their Estel?

What could have shaken their faith in humanity so greatly...?

"What did you see?" asked the Wizard bluntly, as Aragorn reached for them, gently placing a hand on either of the flushed cheeks; feeling the racing heartbeats and noting the tremors that shuddered through lithe bodies, periodically.

Surprisingly, Legolas merely glared at the Maia, whilst Elladan spoke –simultaneously running a comforting hand up and down the Prince's forearm, soothingly- instead; an unusual occurrence to be sure, for he generally preferred to remain silent, whilst the Prince or Atheriel spoke his thoughts for him. Literally.

"I, we, cannot tell you...for it was not...uh, I –I cannot explain..." he trailed, Gandalf smiled gently to let him know to continue.

"There was a Darkness, we could not escape, I heard Atheriel scream –aye, she was there too- and I turned my head towards her. In that instant, the darkness leapt upon me...visions such as you have never seen or imagined haunted my mind...those I- I love..." he gave a swift glance at the Prince and Aragorn from the corner of his eye, "...lay dead and dying in unimaginable torture at my feet...and a voice..."

Gandalf perked upright in alarm, "Voice? What of this voice, was it familiar? What did it offer you?" Elladan raised a warding hand –the other still moving up and down the other Eldar's arm- and merely replied, "I do not know, Mithrandir, for Legolas freed me from it's grasp in the instant it began to speak..."

Quick as lightning, the wizard all but leapt upon the Elf, shaking his shoulders harshly and pushing away Elladan's hand, "What did he _say_, child? Tell me!"

Only to find himself halfway across the room, staff crashing beside him, to the stunned amazement of those present; Faramir and Eomer having nearly been slammed into by the Wizard.

Eowyn gasped in surprise, never had the Elf raised a hand against any of his companions, yet he had just flung the Maia across the room –with a single hand!

Strangely, Gandalf merely laughed, moving upright with the aid of his staff,

"You know, elfling, last time you did that, you were only two-thousand...and about yea-high..." He indicated somewhere about chest-height, vaguely.

"And if you'll remember, I believe you and the Lady Arwen spent the next week looking out through one-another's eyes...after a legendary lecture from the Lord Elrond...naturally. One of his longest ever, I hear, except for the one he gave the twins after they set Bree afire..." he mused, ignoring the chagrined, mildly embarrassed, expression being worn by the twin on the bed.

Mirrored by the one standing within the doorway, who raced in and threw himself at his twin, "Elladan-Oh-I-hope-you're-alright...I was so worried!" he gushed, pausing only to breathe; at which point the Prince's icy composure melted a little to allow a smile through, before the slender had shot up and clasped itself about Elrohir's mouth.

"Mmmph!" came the indignant squeak, Elrohir looking daggers at him; Aragorn, meanwhile, was stuck back upon a sentence uttered by Gandalf a mere moment before...turning to the Twins he asked, incredulously, "You set Bree on _fire_?"

"Hey! We had a damn good reason! I've just...forgotten what it was..."admitted Elladan, Legolas spoke for the first time,

"I'm pretty certain it was because Arwen and I dared you to do something that would finally force_ Ada_ –uh, Elrond-" he corrected swiftly, "to kill you...since you're still here, I'm assuming you lost..." he jested.

Elladan gave him a swift kiss, to Eomer's surprise, "To your gain, _Melleth_, imagine a life without me...or to a lesser extent, Atheriel..." he jested, but realised the words had been wrong a second too late, as Legolas's face became shielded once again.

"So you're not dead?" the Dwarf asked for the fortieth time, moving to prod the archer with his axe...

"Do it and die, _mellon-nin_," the voice hissed back, causing Gimli to skirt back to a safe distance...say, behind Aragorn and Gandalf, who strode behind the trio of elves, trailed by Eowyn, Eomer and Faramir; concern etched on mortal faces.

Within the dead of night, pitch black as the darkness of the visions, the Dawnstar slipped from his Bond's embrace and moved from the chambers they shared, Elladan did not stir and his eyes remained glazed in sleep.

Arod stood ready in the stables, unadorned, save a bridle that he had slipped on the horse earlier. He leapt upon the horse without aid of saddle, and turned the Rohirrm animal towards the gates of the fair, stone, city; drawing his Lothlorien cloak about himself...

"NO!" came the cry as the animal and its rider raced towards the gates, Hasufel attempting –valiantly- to catch up to his Rohirric brethren, Arod. Although the white horse had a fair lead, Aragorn prayed to the Valar for a miracle...and it was answered, the gap between the two animals closing swiftly...

Readying himself, the former-Ranger, Estel, son of Elrond, leapt in a death-defying feat of agility and faith, to the other horse. Slamming his full –considerable- human bulk against that of the lithe elf, catching him about the waist, they tumbled from the speeding horses.

Horses who ran a few paces more then slowed to a dignified trot...finally stopping to turn and gaze back at their masters, disdainfully.

Trapped beneath the _edan_, Legolas thrashed to free himself, but was pinned, attempting his earlier tactic...only to find Aragorn's hand on his chest, forcing him down again...

"Nay, my friend, we'll not have a repeat of that incident..._besides_," he whispered directly into a pointed ear, "_I do believe I would enjoy it __far__ too much to be surprised..._"

The King grinned evilly, the smirk fading as he saw a flash of silver, the weapons matching the dangerous, desperate look within the Elf's eyes...and the tears that spilled forth.

"_Please_..." came the desperate plea, "Please, let me go...it's the only way to save them, you also _mellon-nin_, _Saes_! Let me go!"

Aragorn turned his head at the pain behind the words, flinching instinctively as the hilt of a blade slammed into his cheek, obviously missing his temple...

Sighing, heart heavy, he turned to gaze back into the passionately determined blue eyes of his oldest friend, brother, guardian...and slammed his own fist down, hard, into the pale temple.

Cold blue eyes flared in surprise...then shut too swiftly, body frighteningly still...

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**Mwahahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Yes, I am Evil like that, a Cliffhanger!**

**Next Chapter: Betrayal most foul by one they all trust! {Insert Shock/horror} The phrase, "Somebody help the Elf!" Elladan tries to Kill 'Hope' or at least kick his a- uh, *ahem* moving on... A secret Revealed, Eomer needs to learn to keep his Valar-damned mouth shut! A list of people who would kill for Legolas... Eomer's near-funeral...**

**PLEASE REVIEW!^^**

_**Elvish Used:**_

_**~Mellon-nin: My Friend**_

_**~Ada/Adar: Dad, Daddy, Father, etc.**_

_**~Tithen Pen/Tithen Penne: Little One/Little Ones**_

_**~Nanneth: Mum, Mother, Mummy, etc.**_

_**~Gwador: Brother**_

_**~Muindor: Sister**_

_**~Ernil: Prince [Tithen Ernil: Princeling!^^]**_

_**~Melleth: Love/Beloved [Melleth-nin: My Love/Beloved]**_

_**~Ellon: Male Elf**_

_**~Ellith: Female Elf**_

_**~Edain/Edan: Man/Humans**_

_**~Perrien: Hobbits**_

_**~Perion: Half-son**_

_**~Ion: Son**_

_**~Saes: Please**_

_**~Hannon le: Thank you**_

_**~Havo Dad: Kill Him/Stop Him**_

_**~Mae Govannon: Greeting...**_


	18. Chapter 17: Betrayal of Blood

**Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of it's characters...if I did, why would Legolas be on that Quest? He'd be here, with me, doing lots of chores...shirtless...*EPIC GRIN***

**This Chapter: Eomer is in Hot Water! Why can't he learn to shut his mouth? Elladan may just kill Aragorn, Revelations of pain and anguish [Generalised Angst] and Pure Awesome Wizard Timing "A Wizard is never late, he arrives exactly when he means to..." Eowyn gets a Kiss...from Elladan! O.O ...Legolas is jealous... and Confused...O.o**

**Sneak Peak: **"He thought he heard mirth in Estel's voice as the man called out, "Somebody help the Elf!"

Estel would pay for that later...most likely, with his life...but it could wait."

**HOPE YOU ENJOY!^^**

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**Chapter 17: Betrayal of Blood, The Price of Freedom...**

As the King strode, tiredly, through the doors to his Palace in the early rays of dawn, he noticed then, how pale the elf draped haphazardly in his arms had become.

A tiny crimson streak the only thing marring the perfect visage, like fine porcelain...few servants were about at such an hour, though one did glance in his King's general direction and take off in search of help.

_That man would be getting a raise_...The King mused, grimly.

"Ai, Valar! NO!" Elladan shrieked in fear, "What have you done, little brother?"

Eyes caressing the too-still form of his lifemate, heart pounding far too fast, blood rushing through his veins at such a dizzying speed, his sight began to grow dim at the edges...blurry everywhere else!

He thought he heard mirth in Estel's voice as the man called out, "Somebody help the Elf!"

Estel would pay for that later...most likely, with his life...but it could wait.

Catching the trembling form in her arms, Lady Eowyn was surprised at how light the being actually was, like a child! Elladan gazed, unfocusedly, after the swiftly disappearing back of Lord Aragorn, where he bore the blond archer up the stairs to their Chambers.

"H-Help me up there, p-please, M-My Lady," the voice shook in her ear, and her heart filled with pity and comprehension; bonded as they were, this was merely the repercussive aftershocks of Legolas' pain. Steeling herself, her face grew impassive for a moment, before donning the appropriate look of serious concern and soft compassion settling -unconsciously- on her features, like a mask melding to it's owner's face...

"Of course, My Lord," she soothed, placing his arm over her shoulder, with her free hand, she encircled the slender waist and all but carried the Eldar in that position; for he was so light, it felt as if she were transporting a toddler on her hip!

And yet, she had seen the power and fury, the raw strength these ...she hesitated to call them 'creatures'...could unleash when needed...it defied true comprehension!

Pushing open the familiar wooden door, it revealed a relieved-looking Aragorn gently daubing a wet cloth over the trickling wound on the Elf's temple; the archer, for his part, simply lay on the bed, as unresponsive as before when he had hung limply in the King's grasp...though his breath had evened out slightly, which gave hope to the situation.

"_**Las**_!" The stricken _ellon_ raced forwards and threw himself on his knees by the bed, rather unsteadily, grasping the Wood-elf's hand in his own. Aragorn placed a comforting hand on his Eldar brother's shoulder and motioned for the new-comer to enter , Elrohir sank beside his brother and held him as he cried out tears of frustration, anguish, fear and guilt.

It tore at her soul, but what words of comfort can you offer one of Illuvitar's children...as he felt a piece of his soul being torn away by the crushing darkness that is death...?

Silently he berated himself, Why had he not noticed Legolas slipping from their bed, from their room...? Instead waking in panic as he realised he was alone, the other side of the bed grown cold, where a warm body should lie...

Gazing from the window, his elven-eyes had descried the chase, the battle, the...capture...of his _melleth_...and whilst one part of his nature agreed and was in accord with the actions taken...the other, more primal part, wanted to rip Aragorn limb from bloody limb for daring to _touch_ Legolas in such a manner...

To _hurt _him...

His tears ceased, looking up at his twin, Elladan smiled in his 'I'm-fine,-really!' way, that had never worked before...but, Eru be damned, it had to work sometime! Please let it be now!

Elrohir tilted his head to the side, smiled and pulled his twin onto the bed, next to the -Valar be praised!- now-stirring form of Legolas!

The first thing he became aware of, was a hard slap across the face, easily snapping his head to the side, forcing him to gasp and blink rapidly to remove the stars from his vision, before gazing into the fierce visage of...Elrohir?

"_How could you do that?_" he hissed in Elvish, livid with rage, "_How could yo- ? Elladan nearly passed out in worry, and I fear it could have been much worse! But, oh no! His Majesty must think of __himself__ first, forget us commoners! And-..._" Elrohir was physically aware he was rambling, but so enraged was he, the angry tirade just fell from his lips in Sindarin.

Legolas had no idea how to respond, so settled for laying there and listening intently to the Twin's every word, feeling a definite ire building from within, did he not understand...? No, he did not. Maybe...

Wordlessly, the archer raised a hand and pressed it to Elrohir's face, there was a flash of glowing light, images of pain, torture and death.

The overwhelming smell of blood and the agony-filled screams that haunted his every waking moment spilled over into the Imladrian, the image of Thranduil walking away with his children...

The pile of broken, bloody bodies, twisted and torn in ways imaginable...the future he sought to change...and, horror of horrors, the utter, paralysing hopelessness of the situation...

...Then Elrohir was hugging him, tears streaming from green eyes, apologising profusely in both Westron and Sindarin.

"Oh, Legolas, I'm _so, so sorry_! If I had _known that it was these _images that torment _you, I would never have _tried to stop you! Forgive_ me, mellon-nin?_"

The Prince nodded and reached out for the other Twin, his beloved Elladan, who immediately turned and did the most puzzling thing...he kissed Eowyn!

"Thank you, My Lady! I do not think I would have made it up the stairs without your assistance," he exclaimed, as the Shieldmaiden of Rohan blushed, becoming shy all of a sudden.

Aragorn laughed like a drunken fool, enjoying the strange scene, that was, until Elladan turned to him...fury and love in his eyes.

Crashing into the opposite wall, the King of Gondor groaned as Elladan called, "_That_ was for hurting my _Melleth!_"

Ignoring the weak protest that rose from the bed...Elladan continued.

Striding over, he grabbed the King by his lapels and drew him closer, smooching a big, brotherly kiss on his forehead, as if Aragorn had miraculously reverted to his eight-year-old self again, when he wasn't paying attention...

"And _that_ was for bringing him back alive, Brother!"

At the entrance, Lady Eowyn laughed and laughed...

By next morn, Legolas strode into the Halls adorned, as always, in his standard green tunic and leggings, making no sound in the morning light. Taking a moment to gaze over the Garden, he briefly comprehended leaping over the balcony and into it...it was merely eight-feet-down, easy!

But was it worth the risk?

Aragorn had called a secret meeting this day, and he had mere moments to get there...apparently Eomer had come with an important message of opportunity for both their Kingdoms and he, himself, was intrigued, although some well-honed instinct screamed it's alarm...

The well-oiled doors whispered open at the barest touch, admitting his person and swiftly shutting behind him, the Elf heard a large deadbolt being slid into place. Unease stirred again, why this incessant need for secrecy?

"Ah, Legolas, Representative of Mirkwood, I believe? I gathered that was where you meant when we were first introduced, oh 'Lord of the Woodland Realm' " The edan was enjoying this too much, _**Eomer had to die**_!

Legolas briefly considered the notion, before dismissing it with difficulty, too many witnesses, maybe later...

A brief knock summoned the attention of all, the armour-clad warrior who strode in was instantly marked as one of the famous Rohirrm, Eomer moved to him instantly, and hushed whispers were moved outside the chamber...in a thinly disguised attempt to ward off the prying ears of certain Elves...

The bolt slid into place, Legolas took a moment to stare out the window as the sun graced the visible land with light, the vision stilling his racing heart and forestalling all sense of claustrophobia...he turned to survey his companions whilst absently straining to hear the words from beyond the thick, wooden door...

Aragorn sat upon his throne, the Lady Eowyn opposite Lord Faramir upon the fifth step of the dais, Gimli stood steadfastly at it's base, whereas Elladan and Elrohir leaned against pillars at opposite ends of the room to one another.

Legolas smirked, he knew what they were up to, it was a game they frequently played, soon -when everyone was complacent in telling which twin was which- they would trade places, then start an indignant argument with whomever addressed them incorrectly first...

Aragorn had an eyebrow quirked, surveying his brothers, yet letting it stand...

"I am assuming, since you are not usually so tardy, that you faced the difficult decision of choosing to come to this meeting, or abandon the whole enterprise and leap from the balcony to the gardens below...? Am I correct?" he asked, irritatingly accurate.

"Perceptive as ever, Estel..." he responded, leaning on a pillar nearest Elladan, close to where Gimli stood. Aragorn half-descended the stairs, gazing at his elven brother, assessing the marked improvement in health the elf displayed this morning, as the grinding sound of a bolt being withdrawn caught his attention.

Eomer strode in again, waving his personal guard back, outside the chamber...they hesitated, but obeyed, noticing the Formidable Lady Eowyn within...

"Sorry to keep you all waiting my Lords and my La- uh, Sister," he switched, seeing the foul glare that settled over the fair face as he -her brother- attempted to address her as 'Lady'... He cleared his throat, "Ahem, moving on, I am certain you are wondering why I have chosen to visit your fair city under such impromptu circumstances..."

Aragorn tilted his head to the side, as if to say, 'I'm listening' and a general, 'Get to the point...'.

"Several days ago, I was approached by an emissary of Mirkwood," he said, shooting a glance at Legolas, "Who requested an audience with myself, of course I accepted, as I knew you were from there and therefore, they must be trustworthy!

"He was clothed in a darker arraignment than yours and bore a strange sigil I have never seen before, his fair green eyes...looked haunted for some reason, but he strode in confidently and requested to relay a message from his King to Rohan's."

"Naturally, I accepted, intrigued.

According to the messenger...-Tweylan or whatever unpronounceable thing he was called-... he was sent by King Thranduil of Mirkwood to relay a message to all nearby human Kingdoms, it seems he needs help in capturing a rogue element to the throne...alive or dead, preferably dead.

A significant sum of money is being offered for the capture of the Crown-Prince of Mirkwood, Traitor to the Green Throne...

"At the current moment, I have the Rohirrm scouring the plains of Rohan for the traitorous creature, for, how hard can it be to find one defenceless elf out there, alone, in the world of men...? It seems tha-..."

**_THWOCK!_**

In perfect synchronisity, Legolas fell pale and dropped his bow with a resounding, '_Thud_', clasping a pale, trembling, hand to his forehead in disbelief, as Elladan, full of fiery fury not often exhibited by the elf, strode across the room and back-handed Eomer full across the face.

The _edan_ King slammed into the pillar a pace from where Elrohir stood, the other Twin helpfully adding, "Nice Shot!" to an already tense atmosphere.

Eomer regained some semblance of awareness, sitting up and clutching his face at the precise moment to hear Aragorn whisper, "It is alright, _mellon-nin,_ we will not let him have you. I swear this to you!"

"That's right, laddie!" cried the Dwarf, slapping the somewhat limp Elf on the arm, "They'd have to go through me first! And of course, Aragorn, Elladan, Atheriel, Elrohir...the Gondorrhim...AND Lady Arwen...-_especially Lady Arwen_!...AND the Hobbits...AND most of Imladris...AND the Lady Galadriel...and Lord Celeborne...AND Lord Glorfindel...AND Lord Elrond...AND-"

"And I!" cried the Lady Eowyn defiantly, standing, Faramir mirrored her movement and said, "And I also, Legolas, worry not, Thranduil shall not have you."

Piecing two and two -and two and two _and Two_!- together, a clearer picture began to form in Eomer's mind, his eyes wide [subconsciously leaning away from the glowering elf before him] he exclaimed, "You? You're the Prince?"

He was shocked, that someone he thought was a brave warrior, -a hero of Eomer's own people, the people of Rohan!- was merely a cowardly traitor, betrayer of the throne, his father, everyone he was destined to rule...and unfortunately made the error of opening his big mouth and saying so...

The bolt slid open, unheard, as a White-robed Wizard wandered in, noticing the way Elladan and Elrohir held a certain Prince upright, whilst the rest of the room's occupants tried valiantly to decapitate the King of Rohan with their murderous gazes alone.

Aragorn, Eowyn, Gimli and Faramir taking a swing or two for good measure, Eomer backed against the wall as the group approached.

Gandalf decided now was a good time to let his presence be known, "So," he said loudly, "Did I miss anything?"

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** Hope you Enjoyed it!^^**

**Next Chapter: Ooooh, Aragorn and the Twins are pissed beyond belief! Eomer grows a brain...I think...Eowyn surprises Faramir and we learn Elves don't marry... Apparently Gandalf and Estel are Closet-Gossipers and "If only looks could kill..."**

**_Elvish Used:_**

_**~Mellon-nin: My Friend**_

_**~Ada/Adar: Dad, Daddy, Father, etc.**_

_**~Tithen Pen/Tithen Penne: Little One/Little Ones**_

_**~Nanneth: Mum, Mother, Mummy, etc.**_

_**~Gwador: Brother**_

_**~Muindor: Sister**_

_**~Ernil: Prince [Tithen Ernil: Princeling!^^]**_

_**~Melleth: Love/Beloved [Melleth-nin: My Love/Beloved]**_

_**~Ellon: Male Elf**_

_**~Ellith: Female Elf**_

_**~Edain/Edan: Man/Humans**_

_**~Perrien: Hobbits**_

_**~Perion: Half-son**_

_**~Ion: Son**_

_**~Saes: Please**_

_**~Hannon le: Thank you**_

_**~Havo Dad: Kill Him/Stop Him**_

_**~Mae Govannon: Greeting...**_


	19. Chapter 18: Truth Comes To Light

**Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of it's characters...if I did, why would Legolas be on that Quest? He'd be here, with me, doing lots of chores...shirtless...*EPIC GRIN***

**This Chapter: Eomer's life hangs in the Balance, Eowyn reverses the Roles on Faramir! O.O Legolas Threatens to use Rohan's King for Target Practice! O.- How Elves 'buddy-up' for eternity! Gandalf & Aragorn Cannot keep a Secret! .**

**-Eomer finally works out what's going on between Legolas and Elladan...It took a while... ****The Royal Composure is Well & Truly Lost! XD**

**Sneak Peek: " **"What?" she demanded, Aragorn raised his hand in the universal sign of "Peace" -or in this case it may have stood in for "Please Don't Hit Me!"- it always paid to be cautious around the Shieldmaiden...if her cooking was any indication...**"**

**ENJOY!^^**

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**Chapter 18: Truth Comes to Light, A Mistaken Trust...**

Fearing his life to be near it's -suddenly, very mortal- end, the King of Rohan nearly fell limp with relief when he heard a familiar voice call, "So...Did I miss anything?"

He took the opportunity to crawl backwards until his hands found purchase on a pillar, and pushed himself upright, whilst the others were distracted by the new-comer.

Aragorn turned to glare at him, hand menacingly gripping his famed sword, his face lit with inner fury as he yelled, "How DARE you come into my halls and profane, not only one of Middle Earth's heroes, but my own _brother_? You do not even know what his father did to hi-..."

"ESTEL!"

The plaintive cry forced itself from the Prince's lips as he looked on warily, silently begging the Gondorian King from uttering another word, a most unusual situation...and one Eomer would soon delve to the core of!

Aragorn's face relaxed slightly, twitching fingers moving from the hilt of his blade as he strode over to Legolas, _Prince Legolas_ he reminded himself and cursed at the title, for this knowledge placed him in a precarious position...

Aid a hero of his people, one of the Nine Walkers, to the ruin of all but friendship...or gain the favour of the mighty Elvan Kingdom of Mirkwood, whose warriors were reputed to be the strongest and finest the Elves had to offer...if what he had seen with his own eyes was true...

He shook his head in disbelief, how could he even contemplate such dark thoughts of treachery most foul? The blond archer had laid his immortal life on the line for his people so many times, whilst knowing naught about them, save the fact they needed his help and protection...it was, in fact, _he_, _Eomer_, who owed the Elf _his_ allegiance!

Gandalf seemed to nod, approvingly, in his direction, as if the wizard could read his thoughts...and he probably could, for who truly knew what that elderly creature was capable of? At this, the wizened hands grasping the white staff tightened menacingly...

Still, it lightened his heart, and he moved forwards, cautiously -to avoid inciting another attack-, towards the Elves.

"Legolas..." the soft voice caught his attention, and the Prince looked up, to meet the sorrowful gaze of Rohan's King, "Legolas, I-...I did not know...and for that, I apologise." It was almost sincere, the man did feel bad for earlier words spoken, but...there was something else there, something cold, calculating that he did not like...

Unconsciously shrinking back against the pillar and the Twins, he nodded slowly, "I accept your words, Lord Eomer of Rohan, but know this...speak such words of my supposed 'cowardice' again...and I will shoot you..." Humour wound itself into the words, and he smiled, wanly.

Eomer realised instantly, that he had been forgiven, and beamed, widely.

Lady Eowyn relaxed and laughed, swiftly followed in suit, by Lord Faramir; the two seemed to be doing most things in tandem these days, the Elvan Prince wondered how long it would take one of them (probably Eowyn) to 'propose' (as was the strange human custom) to the other...

"Ah, brother, it would do you well to keep your mouth shut tight, for I am certain that, though an entertaining image in the mind's eye, watching you running about like a crazed horse, whilst our fair Prince attempts to use you as target practice...would be a most disturbing, though humorous, sight." She smiled.

"Oh hear, my Lords, how my own sister betrays me for a pretty face! A 'humorous sight'? Valar, sister! Are you planning to take my throne and impose your own will upon Rohan's people, already?" Eomer laughed back, "Why, you are not even married!"

"Not yet...at any rate," quipped the Elf, softly; a knowing gaze drifting between Eowyn and Faramir, a smile ghosting pale lips...Instantly earning him the full ire of a blushing Shieldmaiden, and the embarrassed mumblings of the new Steward...

"Oh! Speaking of which, though this may not be the happiest of times, it seems that all those whom we care about are gathered here now...and I would like..." Eowyn knelt down and grabbed Faramir's hand, "to do this before you all..."

She faced him, his stunned expression softening as she said, "Lord Faramir, Steward of Gondor, would you do me the Honour of becoming my husband?"

Shell-shocked as he was, Faramir managed to reply, "Although I'm pretty certain, _I_ am meant to be doing the asking..._Yes_. Yes of course, my beautiful Shieldmaiden!"

So saying, Eowyn leapt into his arms, shrieking her delight, as the others in the room cheered, applauded and tried their best not to burst out laughing...three sets of melodious voices whispered, in unison, "_Strange creatures, Edan..._"

Eowyn turned to face the amused elves, having caught their last comment through the haze of pure excitement that veiled her world thusly. "Oh, Master Elves? What is so strange about this? I am certain it is a bit...unusual...unorthodox even, for a female to propose but..."

She broke off as she noticed a bemused Lord Aragorn laughing, silently, to her left.

"What?" she demanded, Aragorn raised his hand in the universal sign of "Peace" -or in this case it may have stood in for "Please Don't Hit Me!"- it always paid to be cautious around the Shieldmaiden...if her cooking was any indication...

"It is just," he laughed, "Just your assumption that Elves marry...My Lady Eowyn...it is more complex than you know! But rest assured, my Lady, a male being propositioned by a female is not the most unique of circumstances I have witnessed..."

Eomer, once again, took the time to put four and six together, eyes wide, he looked at Legolas and the Twin...Elladan?...who clung to the Prince's waist, protectively. Their shared chambers, the affection...oh Valar! How had he not noticed before?

The confusion and surprise that extended itself across the Rohirric Monarch's face was priceless, Aragorn found himself thinking he should ask Elrohir to paint it for him later, so he may hang it on his wall and be forever amused...

Legolas merely laughed, all previous tension and caution lost in the moment, Gimli patted the Horse-Lord's arm kindly, "I know, Lad, the Bloody Elves muddle everything up, even Love! But what can you do? I say, as long as they're happy..."

"B-but..." Eomer cleared his throat, "What was it you said about a lack of marriage, Aragorn? Surely such a relationship is improper?"

Surely enough, the Royal Composure was thrown clear of the window as Aragorn and Elrohir, -and aye, even Gandalf, himself- doubled over in loud guffaws and high, melodious hysterics.

Elladan blushed, the tips of his ears turning a demure shade of pink, to match his cheeks, Legolas mirrored the expression, shoulders shaking with mirth; sometimes, it seemed, the _edan_ made great sport in their ignorance!

"They..." Estel wheezed, "They do not..." he wheezed again and righted himself, steadfastly hauling his Royal Composure back into line with a strong leash.

"They do not marry, for there is no real choice in their partners...the Valar choose for them, and the decision makes itself known when the time is deemed right..."

Eomer nodded in strange comprehension, Faramir looked quite intensely interested in the explanation, as did Eowyn.

Gimli, who had heard this explanation before, on the long ride to Gondor, had decided to strike a low, mumbling conversation with the bored-looking wizard, who had -himself- explained the basics of this to Aragorn...and aye, the Twins, Arwen and Legolas, themselves, when they were elflings!

-_For some strange reasoning, Lord Elrond had found numerous reasons with which to vacate Imladris at the time; Lord Glorfindel had received a non-existent 'Urgent Summons' from Lothlorien -though it could not be proven false, as the Lady never physically _wrote_ anything when she had another means of contact at her disposal-, and Lord Erestor...Gandalf had never known the Ancient Librarian had such a talent for hiding_!

_-Although he had grown suspicious, when -what he had taken for a shabby-looking beech outside the rooms- had begun to titter and giggle such as no bird he had ever heard before, as he mentioned where elflings came from..._

_Really, with mentors like that, it was no wonder those four -five, were such childish terrors!_

"Yes," the Wizard intoned, allowing Aragorn some respite from a subject he only basically grasped, "Elves do not marry, they Bond. Usually with one or more of their own kind, -male or female,- I have even known some to take four lifemates...but that is not the point, it is not of their own volition that they do so.

"For you see, there is a saying amongst the Elves that may help you to understand the situation, '_Soul meets Soul, when Eyes meet Eyes_', there is no choice but to accept the joy of it and the children it brings..."

Faramir held up a hand, "Forgive me, Gandalf, but it seems you are leading us in circles and explaining little to exactly nothing..."

"_That's what I said the first time..."_ mumbled an aggrieved voice, the Steward cast a glance around at the nearest Eldar Twin, who stood by his right ear. He discerned it was Elrohir, for he had only ever seen Elladan grasp the Prince about the waist, as the other twin seemed to be doing... Faramir laughed.

"Ah yes, young Faramir, that I am," said the amused Wizard, a gleam in his eye, "but I will try to explain it as best I can...Elves and their future, eternal partners, can spend many centuries together, in everyday activities, some not even realising the other was there, until the time the Valar decide to Bond them.

If there is more than just two involved, this ...recognition, of sorts, will not occur until they are all together or at a crucial moment in their lives. Though I have heard tell of Bonded Elves finding another lifemate centuries afterwards and incorporating them into their groupings...a strange occurrence, but it does happen."

Strangely, Elrohir perked up a little at that...

The Wizard mused, lost in thought, before straightening and loudly announcing, "Legolas! Why don't you give them an example? _Say..._the night you and the Prince-consorts were bonded?"

If looks could kill...

Trying to keep thoughts of seriously maiming the Wizard from his conscious mind, the Prince smiled, ears-tips briefly flushing red -near imperceptibly, though Aragorn chortled in his throat.

"Why certainly, Gandalf, it is no secret, after all...for a _certain Wizard and edan_ decided to make the incident known to all who inhabited the Elven Realms..." his death-glare did not go unnoticed by the Maia, who wisely took a step backwards...

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**Hope you Enjoyed it!^^ Please Review!^^**

**Why yes, I do read ElfQuest...why do you ask? XD**

**Next Chapter: "Chapter 19: Moon Drenched Eternity, Cut Short" -The Story of their Bonding, Beautiful in all it's weird Glory...Mocking of the Royal couple-uh, trio- Gandalf reveals a secret...Gimli thinks Legolas can read in the dark; Legolas thinks Gimli's an idiot...The Truth is known. Betrayal is afoot...!**

**Eowyn is about to be pleasantly surprised... Elves in trees should not antagonise sleeping Dwarves...**

_**Elvish Used:**_

_**~Mellon-nin: My Friend**_

_**~Ada/Adar: Dad, Daddy, Father, etc.**_

_**~Tithen Pen/Tithen Penne: Little One/Little Ones**_

_**~Nanneth: Mum, Mother, Mummy, etc.**_

_**~Gwador: Brother**_

_**~Muindor: Sister**_

_**~Ernil: Prince [Tithen Ernil: Princeling!^^]**_

_**~Melleth: Love/Beloved [Melleth-nin: My Love/Beloved]**_

_**~Ellon: Male Elf**_

_**~Ellith: Female Elf**_

_**~Edain/Edan: Man/Humans**_

_**~Perrien: Hobbits**_

_**~Perion: Half-son**_

_**~Ion: Son**_

_**~Saes: Please**_

_**~Hannon le: Thank you**_

_**~Havo Dad: Kill Him/Stop Him**_

_**~Mae Govannon: Greeting...**_


	20. Chapter 19:MoonDrenched Eternity

**Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of it's characters...if I did, why would Legolas be on that Quest? He'd be here, with me, doing lots of chores...shirtless...*EPIC GRIN***

**Recently discovered an awesome phrase, "LOL-WHUT?"**

**This Chapter: Another 'Triology' is made, Legolas's Death Wish...Elladan was not impressed, Eomer offers the Rohirrm, apparently the Fellowship was 'Gallivanting' across Middle Earth...LOLWHUT? Gimli promotes Legolas to NightLight...Treachery is afoot! O.O WARGS IN THE LIBRARY! O.O Glorfindel's Purple? LOLWHUT? XD**

**Why Elves should never wake a sleeping Dwarf...Eowyn is mentally scarred for life...**

**Sneak Peek:** "...of course, when a certain _person who shall remain nameless_ decided to go _gallivanting_ off across Middle Earth on some blasted Quest to destroy a pretty, though evil, trinket of Sauron's, with my younger brother...leaving me in Rivendell with a pregnant elleth...I very nearly tracked him down and killed him myself!"

**ENJOY!^^**

* * *

**Chapter 19: Moon-Drenched Eternity, Cut Short**

"_It was not that long ago, even for _edan_, maybe a year and a half...nay, two full turns of the seasons ago, when I was in Imladris, having escorted the Lady Galadriel and her two pupils, the Ladies Arwen and Atheriel, there from Lothlorien._

_Surprisingly, we had only been attacked once on the journey...an uncommon occurrence, but a pleasant one, to be certain. _

_It was approaching the evening when we arrived, Lord Elrond greeted us at the gates and bade the Ladies to enter, only allowing me to join them after he had thoroughly scrutinised my form and determined I was not concealing any wounds or such that were potentially fatal...as I had been telling him for several hours -..."_

"You mean, for once, you did not have 'Just a Scratch'?" jested the Dwarf, again, _if looks could kill_... "Nay Master Dwarf, that sort of thing only ever seems to occur when Aragorn and I go on patrol...and I am inclined to believe it is _all his fault_..." the Elf retorted, swiftly smothering the edan's indignant squeak with the rest of his tale...

"_Aragorn was occupied with the Lady Arwen for the evening...or should I say, they were engaged in 'thinly-veiled flirtatious conversations' and need not be disturbed. Galadriel was in deep...conversation...of her own with Lord Glorfindel and the Lords Elrond and Erestor were taking turns to scream at the helpless Twin standing before them._

_Though I could never be certain, the aggrievence appeared to be__ about a Warg, soap, the 'ruined library' and Lord Glorfindel's new skin-colour; a delicate shade of purple, it suited him well...sadly, I have never been able to gain the exact nature of the act, but gathered it was most amusing. To everyone not directly involved...it seemed._

_The Lady Galadriel broke off her 'conversation' long enough to tell me I should go to the Gardens, swiftly and in all haste. Never has she led another astray, and rarely does she join minds without another's permission, so I assumed she had had another vision and it required urgent attention._

_To a greater or lesser extent, it was true, I suppose. Within the moon-drenched Gardens, I found the fair Lady Atheriel waiting, she looked apprehensive and twitched slightly as I approached. Nearly jumping from her skin as Elladan wandered across the Bridge, behind her!_

_He had gotten as far as the sentence, "So you heard her too, I wonder what-...?" Before it happened._

_There was a brilliant flash of light, it was then we all noticed each other on a different level, one that cannot, nor ever will ever be explained..."_ he trailed off, as Elladan continued,

"_Melleth_, you sound like Gandalf! _It was much, much more than that, our souls were joined, as had been our destinies since birth -Valar willing. Not to mention the glow, Atheriel and I had never done so before, but we radiated a soft silver light; not unlike the moon, or Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborne...but Legolas, being one of the Golden Twins, surpassed us all!"_

The grin on the Elf's face clearly showing how he loved to embarrass his _melleth_ -who was blushing a little...and beginning to glow a little, too...

"_It was a strange sensation, some of the light began to pour into our own bodies, strengthening us like never before...Atheriel looked so joyous she was crying...for it was then she knew...**we** knew...the three of us were bonded and she would be a mother. _

_Something she had secretly confided to Arwen, one night, as her heart's desire...and, I may have _accidentally_ overheard, whilst stealing through the secret tunnels in the walls to reach my room..._uh, pretend you didn't hear that last bit, if _Ada_ knew...we'd all be dead_._

"_The glow and resulting shockwave of light we caused apparently engulfed all of Imladris! Sending Estel, the Lords Elrond, Glorfindel, Erestor, Elrohir, and the Ladies Galadriel and Arwen, running to the gardens._

_Where we were all sitting together with, and I quote, '_The strangest expressions I have ever seen, part contentment, part stupidity and all smugness, like a cat full of cream!' _Thank you for that one, by the way, Brothers..." _He glared at Aragorn and Elrohir, who were smiling in fond remembrance.

"Shortly after, Atheriel announced she was to bear a child, to the joy of all...of course, when a certain _person who shall remain nameless_ decided to go _gallivanting_ off across Middle Earth on some blasted Quest to destroy a pretty, though evil, trinket of Sauron's, with my younger brother...leaving me in Rivendell with a pregnant elleth...I very nearly tracked them down and killed him myself!

Atheriel just laughed and found the situation highly amusing, then we discovered something else...which our intrepid Prince-ling found out upon his return...Twins. Atheriel is approaching her final months now, it has nearly been sixteen, has it not?"

Over their heads, Eomer -with an amused look on his face- mouthed the word "Prince-ling" to Aragorn, who smiled and titled his head to the side at the obvious question behind the mirth.

"Twins..." Lady Eowyn whispered, almost reverently, for she knew this was an occasion to be celebrated; Faramir, her betrothed as of ten minutes ago, smiled as she stood and walked to the Elves. Throwing her arms around the both of them, simultaneously, she congratulated them heartily and asked, "So, my Lords, when will I be meeting this enchanting 'Atheriel'?"

Elladan smiled, "Soon, My Lady, for she plans on visiting Gondor for Arwen's Wedding...which will be set whenever our dear sister deems her friend and the babes well enough to travel...with the King's personal guard on-hand, of course..." he threw a side-ways glance at Aragorn.

The King laughed, raised his hands in a placatory gesture and said, "I, of course, would never rescind such an offer and will gladly see to it that the entire of Gondor's Royal Guard meets her in Imladris. Although..." he paused, mockingly-pensive, "Are you sure you would not rather me send out half or maybe all of Gondor's armies also? One cannot have too much protection!"

"Would that you have the Rohirrm and all of Rohan's armies join the convoy too, your Majesties?" Eomer jested. "One can never have too much protection..."

Someone was going to get smacked...and it was going to be hard.

Gandalf looked to the Prince, silently seeking permission for something unknown, whatever it seemed to be, permission was given...

The Wizard bade the Elves, the Dwarf and Gondorian King leave and turned to the Rohirric King, Shieldmaiden and Steward...

"What do you know of the Mirkwood Royal Family...?" he began...

"You're still glowing, you know," said an amused Aragorn, surveying his friend; Legolas paused, looked down and noticed, indeed, that he was truly glowing with the muted force of his power...that, or it was the closeness to Elladan that was causing the reaction...

Something that sounded much like, "_Bloody Elf..._" fought it's way past the strangling bushel that served as a beard of the Dwarf, Gimli sounding rather amused, also. "Ah well, lad, at least now you can read in the dark..."

The Elf retorted with a mutter that sounded _suspiciously_ like, "_At least I _can _read..._"

It had not been more than a few hours since, the King of Gondor, Prince of Mirkwood and his Consort, Dwarf-Lord and the consort's identical Elven Lord brother had stretched themselves upon a nice, shaded patch of grass within the Palace Gardens. A place of vibrant greens created by Legolas and the Twins themselves, a contrast to the -in their words- 'cold, harsh white of uncaring stone' -these words causing much consternation and bickering from a certain Dwarf...

Elladan, Elrohir and Legolas looked up expectantly, footsteps raced towards them, where they lay sprawled and half-asleep -for none had had much cause to slumber in recent nights. Racing around the corner was the Lady Eowyn, her dress flapping most becomingly in the breeze, the Elves could hear her heart pounding from where they lay and grew concerned.

Stronger arms than he would have credited her with encircled his chest, where he sat, and the Shieldmaiden sobbed into his chest, Legolas seemed at a loss of what to do...settling for stroking her hair...

"Hey! I think I'm the one who is supposed to do that!" A familiar voice called, for the second time that day, as an ashen-faced Faramir strode up behind her, lowering his voice, he whispered into the Prince's ear.

"I never imagined that one of the First-Born would be capable of such vile acts, like those perpetrated by my own father, and for that I am truly sorry, _mell- mellon-nin_" Whilst the man stumbled over the strange word, the sincerity behind it filled the Prince's heart with joy...and his lungs with oxygen, for that was what was capable of rushing in once the protectively crushing arms of a certain human woman were removed...

Eomer had yet to appear, though Legolas doubted he would, and this dampened the natural glow about his body...

Noticing, Elladan whispered something into his ear and drew him close, drawing him back to the group both physically and mentally, until he coversed and laughed along-side them, glowing strongly once again...

"Send word to the Rohirrm, the Prince is in Gondor, but we cannot take him...he is too greatly protected, prepare for an ambush..." whispered a shadowy figure, under the eaves of night.

"But S-S-S- My Lord..." stumbled the guard, obviously struggling with the concept of betrayal on such a magnitude...

"Now, fool! You will ride hard and fast, it will only take you a few hours, await my signal, we will hunt at dawn..." the dark figure hissed.

The guard bowed deeply, "Yes, Your Majesty."

"...a splendid idea, Eomer, we can of course, hunt upon the morrow! How does an hour before Dawn strike you for breakfast?" he asked his seated comrades, Gimli was obviously wondering whether Aragorn had gone insane...whilst Legolas and the Twins looked amused.

"If you keep up this incessant banter and relentless feasting, Estel, we will still be here to greet the sun at the appointed time..." the Archer jested, to the King's ire.

"Ah yes, it seems it is time for bed, good night, I will see you on the morrow..."

As the stars covered the darkening blanket of sky, Aragorn gazed upwards at them, wondering at the strange events that lead to this moment...

With the slightest tilt of his head, the now-King of Gondor could see within the courtyard, where Gimli had seemingly sprawled himself upon a patch of stone and fallen asleep. Dwarves! Strange creatures...

Yet, above him, within the large tree that graced the small garden within, a delicate, pale hand could be seen...hanging loosely in sleep. If one had the ability to discern it, one could almost make out the other form within the large leafy boughs, the Prince was much more adapted to this type of concealment and therefore, was nearly impossible to spot.

Aragorn only did so, for he surmised that wherever Elladan was, Legolas was bound to be...

The Dwarf grunted and jerked a little, obviously threatening the pants off Orcs within his dreams...Estel laughed a little, Gimli could be amusing when he wanted to be...

Yawning widely, he turned from the scene and walked back within his chambers, falling into the welcoming oblivion of sleep before he'd even touched the pillows...

Unbeknownst to all, one watched the King, took in the forms of the innocents below, heart heavy with grief as he contemplated his impending betrayal, most foul...

Dawn streaked the sky with gold, cleaving ominously dark clouds in twain with ease, rendering them as harmless as a new-born foal...and yet, the day still held a tang of...of, _wrongness_.

No other word could truly describe the worry that gnawed on his soul, Legolas stared from his perch at the coming day, a palatable warning was all but screaming within his mind, yet he chose to ignore it, for the others' sake...

Pasting a half-smile upon his fair features, he turned to the awakening Elladan, watching as the green eyes came back into focus, snapping out an arm and catching hold of the Imladrian's red tunic to steady him. He sighed, amused, Elladan was no Wood Elf.

More often than not, Legolas found himself catching him before he could fall from his perch, especially when half-awake in the morning...

The soft laughter brought out the ire in those green eyes, anger flashing briefly before they registered the gentle grip staying their descent to the ground. "It seems, I must thank you for pausing my daily greeting to the pavement..." he jested back, warmly.

Legolas smiled, but tilted his head in the direction of the castle, "Come, we must ready ourselves for the oncoming hunt...Who knows? Valar willing, Estel will still be a-bed!" he laughed, alighting from the tree gracefully, Elladan...slightly less graceful.

Both taking care to step -lightly- upon the snoring Dwarf in an obvious manner, the hairy creature awoke, spluttered his outrage, grasped his axe haft and began to chase the infuriatingly amused Eldar all the way into the Dining Hall.

Their laughter echoed about the walls like gentle rain...

Few sights in Middle Earth were as impressive as, say, awakening to the sound of laughter, opening One's door and nearly being run down by two Elves racing past, an axe-wielding Dwarf in hot pursuit...

Eowyn found herself issuing peals of laughter...from the floor, where she lay with her arms clasped firmly about her middle, seemingly, to stop her sides from splitting. From her chamber came a soft, "Eowyn? Are you alright?"

Faramir appeared in the doorway, and she tried her damnedest to explain what she had seen...

Pawing the ground in nervous anticipation, Arod gleamed from amongst the other horses, white amongst the dark, he whinnied as his master approached.

Legolas laughed, stroking the horse's neck, "You are eager today, are you not?" he inquired, Arod snorted and his hoof made a sharp click as it tapped the cobblestone in impatience, the Elf laughed and swung upon his back.

The Dwarf had been given his own horse -thank the Valar!- as he had proven a competent enough rider after many _-many_- lessons with the Lady Eowyn...

Aragorn was once again astride Hasufel, a horse having been provided for both of the Imladrian Twins, who were softly speaking to their mounts before swiftly mounting; Eomer rode up, on an impressive black stallion.

Eowyn _glared_ at the party from the doorway...Faramir, beside her, whispered soft reassurances in her ear -having chosen not to go either, for her sake.

It seemed that Eomer had taken the notion to his mind to _all-but-order_ his little sister not to go anywhere near the Hunt...and she was just as inclined to throw herself on her own faithful mare and go anyway, Eomer be damned!

But...it was actually the words of another -besides Faramir- who held her heart and allegiance, in this matter- Legolas had looked at her strangely this morning, a slight frown furrowing his brow as he seemed to gaze..._through_ her...before speaking.

"My Lady, Eowyn...please, I would to ask you do not ride with us this day...something...something is...I would to give you reason, but I find I cannot, but you will know shortly," he said and turned away, there seemed to be many meanings within his words, but she could not discern their depths...

So she stayed, Faramir also, his loyalty to her, and her alone, was commendable...there would be other hunts. She began to feel slightly faint, and found herself wandering vaguely towards the Healer's Ward...

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**Hope you Enjoyed it!^^ ~PLEASE, Review!^^~**

Eowyn: What's going on?

SailorSilvanesti (at Legolas): I forbid you to tell her!

Legolas: *looks scared...mainly because I'm holding a giant mace...* Whatever you say! *Runs for life*

Eowyn: *Pouting...* Awwwwwwww...you ruin all the fun...

SailorSilvanesti: *points Mace in her direction, raises eyebrow* You were saying...?

Eowyn: I'll uh, I'll just...be going now ...Bye! *Runs for life*

SailorSilvanesti: And THAT's how you deal with unruly FanFic Characters! *Looks smug then realises* Who the Hell am I talking to?

**Next Chapter: "Chapter 20: The Wild Hunt" Gimli believes all horses are conspiring against him, Eomer can't make him shut up! The Hunt is on! Dwarf-taunting! Gimli falls off a horse...Gimli complains about the Horse...Gimli- he does a lot of strange things... ****-.- BETRAYAL! O.O Dwarvish Swearing...from Aragorn & Gimli!^^ "Your Mother..."**

_**Elvish Used:**_

_**~Mellon-nin: My Friend**_

_**~Ada/Adar: Dad, Daddy, Father, etc.**_

_**~Tithen Pen/Tithen Penne: Little One/Little Ones**_

_**~Nanneth: Mum, Mother, Mummy, etc.**_

_**~Gwador: Brother**_

_**~Muindor: Sister**_

_**~Ernil: Prince [Tithen Ernil: Princeling!^^]**_

_**~Melleth: Love/Beloved [Melleth-nin: My Love/Beloved]**_

_**~Ellon: Male Elf**_

_**~Ellith: Female Elf**_

_**~Edain/Edan: Man/Humans**_

_**~Perrien: Hobbits**_

_**~Perion: Half-son**_

_**~Ion: Son**_

_**~Saes: Please**_

_**~Hannon le: Thank you**_

_**~Havo Dad: Kill Him/Stop Him**_

_**~Mae Govannon: Greeting...**_


	21. Chapter 20: The Wild Hunt

**Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of it's characters...if I did, why would Legolas be on that Quest? He'd be here, with me, doing lots of chores...shirtless...*EPIC GRIN***

**This Chapter: Gimli won't shut up & Believes all Horses are Conspiring against him! Eomer can't make him shut up! Aragorn swears in Dwarvish! Hunting! Betrayal! O.O Action-packed Chapter!^^ Gimli gets all possessive! XD**

**Sneak Peek:" **"ARRRRH! Get your filthy hands off my BLOODY ELVES!" he roared, ignoring how strange it sounded, for the menacing growl itself drove back many from the Twins, lying too still on the ground."

**Enjoy!^^**

* * *

**Chapter 20: The Wild Hunt**

Birds wheeled and cried in the clear, blue sky.

Sun shining down gently upon their backs, wind whipping hair about ecstatic faces as they rode, all simply enjoying the feeling of being alive, on a day such as this, with companions as good as these.

Swiftly, did they come upon the forest at Gondor's edge, abandoning the horses by a nearby stream, the small band took to the hunt on foot.

Elrohir and Elladan disappeared into the trees to either side in perfect synchronisity, Aragorn and Legolas walked side by side, eyes and ears open to the numerous sounds of the forest, trying to sense any worthy creature to grace the King's table.

Gimli grumbled along behind the others, occasionally trading quiet grievances about the elves, the general situation, or his mount to the Horse-Lord at his side.

"Bloody creature tried to knock me off, deliberately! It was if the beastie was conspiring against me!" he stated, incredulous; whilst Eomer hid a grin in the palm of his hand -feigning a cough.

A hand came up, swiftly clenching into a fist, the generally accepted signal for, "Halt" or in this most particular case, "Shut it and stand Still...Especially Gimli"...the Dwarf refused to heed the signal and continued griping about the horse, when Eomer's hand covered his mouth.

Even gagged as such, the Dwarf STILL had the audacity to mutter ungraciously into the Rohirric Monarch's hand!

"Estel," Came the voice to his left, as Elladan dropped from the trees, coming to stand beside him. "Something draws-"

"-Near to us!" finished the excited voice of Elrohir, who stood within the shadow of trees to his right. Aragorn laughed, their voices blended so well, one would never guess two had spoken!

Legolas looked thoroughly amused, perhaps it had been a considerable time since he had last seen them act as this, though his friend had never commented on the strange behaviour of the Twins before...

On occasion, even he, Estel -_their __brother_, for Valar's Sake!- had trouble telling them apart, and yet, this had never seemed to trouble the Prince...he just _had_ to know how Legolas did it!

"It is-" Elrohir trilled, pausing only for breath before delivering his exciting news...which Elladan finished for him"-a large Stag!"

As informative as this information was, it still earned the Twin an irritated glare from his other half...

Legolas laughed, "Come now! It seems the hunt is on...we cannot have you two trying to kill one another! I mean, if your general appearances are enough to frighten creatures away...imagine what your bickering voices will do!"

Then he was gone, safely ensconced within the boughs of a tree many miles from here...if he knew what was good for him...

A deep-throated voice announced it's amusement from the back of the group, Aragorn turned to stare at the Horse-Lord and Dwarf, both were shaking with mirth, -at the Elves' expense, of course...

The objects of their mirth absolutely _glared_ back...

Aragorn sighed, things were getting out of control and deteriorating rapidly, an arrow flashed past, cutting off his immediate thoughts. It thudded up to the green fletchings, into the side of a large stag, felling it instantly for the barb had pierced it's heart...

"You could have left some sport for us...?" he inquired to the tree immediately behind him, from whence the Elven-Prince alighted, smiling widely. He tilted his head to the side, both pleased with felling the beast swiftly with little pain, and slight confusion.

Elves did not understand the human need to chase and terrorise a creature where one arrow would do, when there is no need to instil terror or agony, it must be avoided, or so they held to believe...although, the same did not seem to apply to Orcs...

Aragorn conceded the silent point, nodding his understanding and spoke again, "Ah well, it seems that our dinner is caught, let us make it ready for transport. Fear not, we may yet meet Orcs on the way back to Minas Tirith..."

"Only if we're lucky," grumbled a distinctly dwarven voice...

Slipping inside the once-magnificent beast, Eomer dressed the carcass suitably, carefully removing the pelt and impressive antlers of the beast, which he believed could be made into something of great use. A new knife handle? Cutlery? Ah, in some places they were almost thick enough to make a small cup from them!

All in all, it 'twas quite a kill.

"Are you done yet, ya horse-loving idiot?" inquired the Dwarf, who whittled a vaguely-formed piece of wood by his side, perched on a convenient rock and smoking. Eomer was aware that, although it was a habit to which the Dwarf took like a duck to water...at the moment, the only reason he took to pipeweed was to keep the Elves at bay...they seemed to take great dislike for it for some unfathomable reason?

"Nearly, oh Rock-Skulled One!" He threw back, casually, over his shoulder; Gimli nearly choked on his pipeweed...and unfortunately, several persons he would rather have preferred not witness such an incident...did. Soft, elvish laughter wound it's way down from the trees surrounding them; Gimli snarled up at the oak to his right, as a voice called from it's branches, "Ah, see, brother? All it seems we needed to do to halt that disgusting habit, was to insult him!"

"Ah!" Came a familiar elven voice, "But I have tried that already, perhaps it is simply the insult is more potent coming from a supposed human ally, than a hated elf!"

Gimli spluttered, "Now see here, you...you-...you- Argh! BLOODY ELVES!"

The laughter faded away as the Eldar left the trees, though one paused just long enough to hear the Dwarf mutter, "_I don't _hate_ them, more like...loathing...How can the Valar call _that_ perfection, when they're all dumb as bloody posts?_"

A smile graced the elven face before he, too, make for the nearby clearing within which they, and all the retrieved horses now rested.

Gimli had chosen, wisely, to forsake his steed so that the carcass could be swiftly carried back to Gondor's capital without further delay, or inconveniencing any of the other riders, or so he said. Much to a certain Elf's amusement of course, for he knew that the Dwarf merely disliked having to ride by himself, for he was not naturally attuned with horses and tended to stop, shout at the poor creature and promptly fall off...

So it came to pass that Gimli was once again seated behind the Elven Prince, grumbling loudly about the whole 'fiasco' as if he hadn't planned it to be that way...Legolas took it with good grace...and a slight smirk on his lips...

Riding out upon the plains, it was then, those who had been under cover of leaves for the past several hours noticed, the sky had darkened. Both with night, and heavy clouds, dark upon the evening sky...ominous even.

Winds of strange intensity picked up, whipping their hair, and -in the humans and dwarf's case- heavy cloaks about their persons; a low rumble echoed in the heavens before they opened and poured their wrath on the six hunters.

_'Could things get any worse?'_ Wondered Aragorn, who by now, was completely drenched, hungry and miserable...the sound of thundering hoof beats rose against the thunder, from somewhere nearby

'_I just had to think it, didn't I?' _Thought the miserable King, all thoughts of optimism fled as he saw the large contingent of riders bearing down upon them with great haste, though he could not discern their loyalty through the near-blinding rain...

Although, apparently Legolas could, for his fair face whipped towards Eomer, eyes wide in alarm, distress and...betrayal?

Wheeling about in a manner he had only ever seen once before, on the Plains of Rohan, not-so-long ago, the Rohirrm encircled the riders. Eomer had the grace to looked surprised, even a tad alarmed, although he dropped all pretences when he realised he fooled none in the grouping.

Spears protruded from the walls of man and horse-flesh, the company twice, nay, _tripled_ in size and number since last they met, all focussed on their Lord and King, awaiting some -as yet ungiven- silent command.

"But...why?" The question, though irrelevant in this instance, still forced itself from his lips, unbidden. The Horse-Lord turned and laughed at him, almost cruelly so, eyes ablaze with some strange malady or madness...a look echoed by the other men who surrounded them.

It was cold.

"Why? Though I admit a part of me feels for you, and your Elven brethren, what concerns me more is the protection of my people..." Eomer stated, opening his mouth to say more when Elladan interrupted him, "...and the Reward? Is that not correct? Gold. Greed. Is that all you care for?"

The Prince-consort blazed with fury, it seemed to pass to his twin, for Elrohir also looked as if he could easily tear the head off the _edan_ before him...with his teeth...

Whereas Legolas, to his right, sat silently, radiating a sorrowful calm, the betrayal evident only in his eyes...

Gimli was not likewise effected, he opened his mouth and some of the foulest curses in Westron, Dwarfish and a few choice Sindarin curses (the twins suddenly looked very innocent...and yet, not so much as a certain Elvan Prince...) spilled forth...

As if struck, Eomer looked towards the Dwarf with interest renewed, smiling in that demented -though detached- kind of way, "Ah Master Dwarf, it seems my tutelage in the ways of the Rohirrm has failed to teach you any words worthy of this situation, may I suggest, '_**Fhurn-ahk Rhollurn Hamdhas**_'?"

Several in the Rohirrm sucked in a breath reflexively, whatever he said must have been quite offensive, however Gimli just laughed and, peering around Legolas at Eomer, he called back, "No, I think that's the best way to describe _your_ mother, not the good lady who bore me!"

Eomer's eyes flared in surprise, then narrowed in shrewd appraisal, before moving back to the situation at hand. "Take them, leave them alive if possible...but it is not necessary."

He waved a distracted hand in the air and rode out of the circle, the others advanced slightly, spear-tips beginning to encroach on personal space at an alarming rate.

Calmly, Legolas sat up straight and announced, "_Halleth das, mellon-nin, Saes?_"

The reaction was instantaneous, every horse within the Rohirrm took two steps backwards and reared, unsuspecting riders fell from their mounts and struck the ground hard enough to wind. Horses whinnied, turned and raced away a short distance, stopping to graze as the Elven Prince whispered a soft, "_Hannon le!_" after their retreating forms.

No amount of cursing, cajoling or coaxing could endear the riders to their reluctant mounts, so they merely turned and attempted to take the 'enemy' from ground level. Without the horses, their long spears, once effective against all foes, became useless without the distinct height advantage that being mounted brought.

They came with sword and shield, with a crazed servitude and quiet menace that made even the battle-trained and hardened horses the company rode upon, shy away.

Yet the company had no ideals or intentions of severely harming the men of Rohan, nor killing them, it seemed, as Aragorn struck out with the hilt of his sword, and his fists; catching many a man, and dropping them into a dazed stupor. Whilst the Twins, Elladan and Elrohir, took to the assailants with their fists alone, it was left to Legolas to hold back the axe-swinging Dwarf.

As..._passionate_...as Gimli could be in battle...they really had no intention of harming these men, many of their faces familiar from the battlefields of the War of the Ring. There had to be another reason for their actions...

There! Around the Horse-Lord's neck hung a medallion, of the like that the Prince had only seen once before...but that would mean...No!

'_Thalion..._" The Prince hissed, loud enough to cause Aragorn to pause, Elladan and Elrohir stiffened in response to the name, turning questioning, and slightly apprehensive, glances at the Blond Archer. Blue eyes were wide in ill-comprehension and...fear.

In that split-second all changed, Aragorn was struck from behind by a broadly-grinning Eomer, slumping upon the pommel of his saddle; slowly, he slid from Hasufel and onto the ground, where he was promptly ignored as several others grasped the flailing fists of two Elven-lords and pulled them to the ground.

Many men were required to subdue the struggling twins, some bright spark deciding the best kind of Elf was the unconscious kind, striking both Elladan and Elrohir about the temples...they fell limp instantly.

Behind him, the firm grip on his arm grew lax as Legolas gave a soft cry and clutched his head with a hand, a deathly pallor suffused his features...Gimli took the opportunity to break free and start handing their behinds back to them!

"ARRRRH! Get your filthy hands off **my** **BLOODY ELVES**!" he roared, ignoring how strange it sounded, for the menacing growl itself drove back many from the Twins, lying too still on the ground. An arrow thudded into someone to his left, a man fell shrieking to the dirt, from his periphery vision, he saw the original 'Bloody Elf' string another and take aim, only to cry out in shock and pain as Eomer plunged a wickedly gleaming dagger deep within an Elven shoulder...

Slamming into the ground with significant force, the Elven-Prince failed to register the danger he was in or the pain, as he strove to find himself upright again, pushing himself up on his elbows...

Eomer laughed at the Elf's 'antics' and slammed his boot down between the Prince's shoulder-blades, forcing him to the ground again; in a swift movement, the Horse-Lord swiped down with his dagger, the hilt connecting with the side of a blond head and rending the elf harmless.

A certain dwarf, however, was having none of it, and valiantly tried to shove his axe somewhere no object should ever find itself on -or indeed, _in_, as the case may be- the Rohirric King...before the men of the Rohirrim could react.

Still, the Dwarf was on-coming, like an enraged Cave-Troll, he bowled over men left, right and centre to gain access to Eomer, the King turned to the others and cried, "Take them, take them now! Ride!"

"Which one, my Lord? They are so similar..." cried a confused, and desperate-sounding man from beside Elrohir, "Take them both!" Eomer ordered, "We will work it out later!"

As the Rohirrm began to move away, swiftly mounting the horses that followed their masters, in staggered groupings, Elladan and Elrohir were bound and bourne away...

Eomer, victory glinting in his maddened eyes, turned to face the Dwarf alone...wanting to savour the victory and claim the prize of the beautiful Elven Prince at his feet...

Therefore cementing his people's alliance with the Powerful kingdom of Mirkwood, forever...

And yet, as he raised his sword, the smug expression fixed in the Dwarf's face never fell, briefly he wondered what...? Before a heavy force painfully connected with the back of his skull and he hit the ground, rather ungracefully...

Aragorn panted, dropping the abandoned Rohirric helmet in the dust, gazing at Eomer with contempt before saying, "...and for your information, _**YOUR**_ Mother _**Fhurn-ahk Rhollurn Hamdhas!**_ So there!"

Before collapsing in the dust...

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**PLEASE REVIEW!**

***Halleth Das, mellon-nin, Saes? Help Us, my friends, please?**

**[I made up Halleth Das, but if anyone knows how to say, "Help Us" in Elvish, please let me know!^^]**

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*****Cliff-Hanger! Hope you Liked it!^^*****~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

**Next Chapter: "Chapter 21: Their Fearful Symmetry" - A new Saviour, the Twins are Captured! Aragorn is hurting Legolas out of Mercy! Gimli really sucks at riding horses! Atheriel is in Danger! O.O!**

_**Elvish Used:**_

_**~Mellon-nin: My Friend**_

_**~Ada/Adar: Dad, Daddy, Father, etc.**_

_**~Tithen Pen/Tithen Penne: Little One/Little Ones**_

_**~Nanneth: Mum, Mother, Mummy, etc.**_

_**~Gwador: Brother**_

_**~Muindor: Sister**_

_**~Ernil: Prince [Tithen Ernil: Princeling!^^]**_

_**~Melleth: Love/Beloved [Melleth-nin: My Love/Beloved]**_

_**~Ellon: Male Elf**_

_**~Ellith: Female Elf**_

_**~Edain/Edan: Man/Humans**_

_**~Perrien: Hobbits**_

_**~Perion: Half-son**_

_**~Ion: Son**_

_**~Saes: Please**_

_**~Hannon le: Thank you**_

_**~Havo Dad: Kill Him/Stop Him**_

_**~Mae Govannon: Greeting...**_


	22. Chapter 21: Their Fearful Symmetry

**Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of it's characters...if I did, why would Legolas be on that Quest? He'd be here, with me, doing lots of chores...shirtless...*EPIC GRIN***

**This Chapter: "It's Just a Scratch!", Aragorn is pissed off and Concerned! Gimli curses all horses! The Twins are being ...Twin-napped! Merciful agony! **

**Sneak Peek: "...**he began to grumble into his beard, cursing about 'Horse-loving bastards'...which Aragorn _assumed_ meant Eomer...**"**

**ENJOY!^^**

* * *

**Chapter 21: Their Fearful Symmetry...**

Being jostled about upon a steed was one thing when you had control of the beast, but being bound to it, before what appeared to be a mere youth who obviously didn't have a natural talent for riding...well, it made for an uncomfortable ride...

Elrohir frowned. This was not his accustomed position...in any situation...the lewd thought crept in sideways, capturing his mind and suffusing an inappropriate-for-the-situation-smile on his features.

"_Wha-you-gr'nn at_?" whispered a barely-audible voice to his direct left, Elrohir nearly cried in relief, his brother was alive! And judging from the fact that no yelp of pain accompanied the words, they were obviously uttered so only another Elf could hear...another Elf...

"Las!" he gasped, fear filling his soul, what if they had caught him? What would they do to him? What if...what if they...Thranduil would not be kind to his 'wayward son'...He shuddered involuntarily, earning a worried glance from the youth.

"_Are you alright, Master Elf_?" the boy whispered, placing a trembling hand on Elrohir's back, the Elf was unsure how to respond, so he simply breathed, "_I will be..._"

The blow was a stronger one than usual, Thanas flinched, earning himself another from the large lout who rode beside him. Grenadan laughed, not in the way he used to, loud and merrily, but coldly, cruelly, as if his pain brought joy to one he had once thought of as a father..

"What've I told you about talkin' to the Elves?" he bellowed, a strange, almost sickly smile festering upon his features; Thanas flinched back and felt the Elf strewn and bound across the saddle before him squeeze his knee in comfort. It was small comfort, but it was there and it was real; the third blow near knocked him from his borrowed mount, setting his ears a-ringing and the world turning on it's end.

For a moment, he slumped over the Elf, gasping dizzily to regain some semblance of normality, then shoved himself upright with back straight, refusing to be cowed by the other man. The meaty hand raised again...but instead of punishment, it came down and clasped him warmly about the shoulders -near toppling him again- as Grenadan called out, "See men? This 'un's a fighter! You did me proud, lad!"

And yet, strangely, the sentiment gave no comfort...all his concern for the Elf before him, and the one Grenadan bore, ever onwards towards the mysterious Mirkwood Realm...

Racing towards Gondor was...difficult...at best, for there seemed to be two or more copies of every obstacle they rode past, and yet he would not concede such in the presence of a Dwarf! Nor his younger brother, for that matter, or any other...it would take another of Elrond's potions to convince him otherwise!

He never wanted, nor needed anyone to worry on his account...

And yet, Aragorn continuously sent furtive, concerned glances over his right shoulder, checking him...probably to see if I will fall from Arod, who -Thank the Valar!- seemed to instinctively know his master's need and took charge.

Vision greying slightly about the edges as a thick, sticky trickle of crimson found it's way down his right arm, the wound still bleeding profusely, but it would be fine, he didn't need...didn't need...

He...needed..._**no**_...**hel**-...**h**_**e**__l__**..**__p__**.**__._

The world fell away...

"Aragorn!" the cry of alarm was startling, coming from a Dwarf, but not unexpected; he had been awaiting this moment for most of the ride back to Gondor. Surely the city must be within elven eye-sight by now? So why had Legolas not made mention of the fact, unless...

Instinct had brought this point to conclusion, swiftly...

Every glance over his shoulder made him urge Hasufel on a little faster, his friend, nay _his brother_, was never intended to be that shade of pale and if he was -well, Aragorn would be having a word with the Valar when he met them...

He reined in Hasufel and wheeled him about just in time to see Legolas slip from the saddle and crash into the ground on his...-_VALAR CURSE HIM!_-..._injured_ shoulder...which he hadn't told Aragorn about!

Sighing in frustration at exactly how stubborn his brother could be, Aragorn swung from his mount and raced over to the still form, pale, but for the terrifying stain of crimson upon his right shoulder. It streaked down his arm, coating his right hand...

Pressing gently for a pulse, mostly to reassure himself, though he saw the Elf breathed; the thin, thready fluttering gave a burst of hope, sparking what could almost have been tears in another situation...

The Healer within took over, dispassionately watching the person before him with a scrutiny born of years of practise, swiftly he tied a make-shift bandage about the wound, using the now-shredded remains of a spare cloak he found in Elladan's saddle-bag -he was sure 'Dan wouldn't mind...and bathed the pale face with cool water from the waterskeins.

"Gimli, I do not doubt your strength, but I must impress upon you that you will not be able to hold him, especially should he fall again..." Aragorn tried to put it as delicately as possible, to avoid bruising a certain Dwarven Ego...but he needn't have bothered.

Gimli was shaking his head, "Go, laddie! Take him where he will be best tended, for I fully intend to tease him for falling from a horse when I return. I shall go to find those Bloody Twins..." he began to grumble into his beard, cursing about 'Horse-loving bastards'...which Aragorn _assumed_ meant Eomer...

He nodded, boosting the Dwarf upon the creamy stallion's back, Arod shied slightly, looking pointedly at the Elf, who lay still upon the ground; Gimli snorted in annoyance, to cover any true concern he felt.

"Look here, _horse_, we may not get along, but there is something we must do togeth-AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!..." his carefully-chosen words were interrupted when Arod took off at a gallop, following the not-so-subtle trail left by the Rohirrm.

Carefully seating the limp form of Legolas before him on Hasufel, he turned towards Gondor and felt a small smile flicker across his face as, somewhere in the distance, a gruff, angry voice yelled, "_Bloody horse!_"

Groaning at the pain in his shoulder, Elladan sat upright groggily, leaning against the Oak whose base they had been roughly dumped by; using it as support in his agony.

Whereas Elrohir seemed to be communicating to the human youth that bore him, Than-? Than- uh, Than_as. -That was it!_

"As in 'pain in my...'," thought Elladan uncharitably, but felt guilt immediately, he was merely jealous of the care the boy showed for his twin, as he had been shown none. Grenadan, the boorish lout that flung him to the ground near seconds ago, was quite rough and had seemed to take pride in causing the Elf harm...

What did it matter, anyway? Where they were going...he shuddered, Thranduil would not be kind. He clutched at his uninjured shoulder in pure agony, feeling the world grey and shift, before flickering into nothingness for a split-second, before the connection was broken and he was left dazed and panting, on the ground.

"_Las...!_"

"_Gwador_!" Elrohir gasped, leaping forwards as best as the leads binding their legs and throats to the tree would allow, grasping Elladan by the arms and drawing him close with their unbound hands.

"Are you alright? What is- was- is...what's wrong?" the Imladrian asked, hurriedly, panicking slightly as he felt the racing pulse beneath him grow thready and unstable; Elladan gazed up at him, eyes of forest green -a twin for his own- now full of such pain and soulful anguish...it hurt to bare witness.

"Las?" he asked in a small, timid voice, own heart fluttering in fear at what the answer may be; breath catching as Elladan opened his mouth to speak, panted and nodded in dismay, unable to voice the emotions in his heart.

"He- he is hurt...but far from here, I do not think...they caught him...if so, then..._Ahh! My shoulder!_...then Estel is with him...he will be safe. The damn...damn dwarf won't let harm come to...to him." he gave a weak laugh, as Elrohir scrutinised him, noting the way 'Dan grasped at his shoulder in sudden pain...

He inhaled sharply, feeling the horse's swift stride beneath him jolt his body, his _shoulder..._and the blissful, numbing oblivion of unconsciousness falling away like a dark cloak in Summer's heat.

Carefully opening his eyes, and starting slightly that he had to do so, Legolas saw the world speed past in blurs of brown and green, aiming straight for the gleaming white city of Gondor, visible to all eyes by now. He groaned slightly and twitched, reflexively, suddenly realising the familiar muscular arm that was about his waist as it tightened, protectively.

"_E-Estel_?" he whispered, hesitantly, trying to work through the great flood of memories that threatened to overwhelm him at that moment.

"Peace, Legolas, we are nearly within Gondor. When you are well enough, again, I promise to beat the eternal life right out of you for scaring me like that! Again!" came the deep voice from by his left ear, Aragorn's rough stubble scratched at the sensitive point, he shuddered in surprise.

What was the human fascination with beards...?

The thought completely defied any thoughts of reality...even he couldn't make sense of it...but turned his attention back to...

"How many times," the voice continued, "must I turn to find you slowly bleeding to death, _dying_, because you thought it was beneath mention? 'Unimportant'? And so help me if you say..." the voice growled as Legolas gave a soft, weak laugh and said,

"_But Estel, it's...only...a scratch..._"

He wheezed, a new experience for the Eldar, to be sure, but not exactly one he enjoyed...

Aragorn seemed to be attempting to crush his rib cage, "What part of, 'So help me if you say...' wasn't vague enough to warn you not to say those words?" The human growled, earning another wheezy laugh from the Elf, indeed, the world was slightly hazy now.

"Es-Estel? You are...holding me...too...tight," he whispered, almost in-audibly, as Aragorn continued to constrict his lungs.

"I know, _mellon nin_, and I am sorry, but it would be best for both of us -you especially- if you went back to sleep, we are about to cross the rocky plains and I cannot bear to see you in pain..."

The voice grew distant, and he was falling...

Deep within the tranquil gardens of the Elven Haven, Imladris, Atheriel shrieked, a sound of such unending pain and fear it rent the heart.

Many concerned faces were at her side at once, but only the Lord Glorfindel, mighty Balrog slayer that he was, was able to catch her in time, as the pregnant _elleth_ succumbed to darkness...

* * *

**MASSIVE CLIFF-HANGER! *Don't kill me!***

**Hope You Enjoyed!^^ Please Review!**

**Next Chapter: "Chapter 22: Half, and Half Again/Broken" -Three seperate souls join and share, someone pulls a 'switch-er-oo'...o.- ****Gimli threatens the Valar that if he finds the Elves dead...he'll kill them...Dwarven Logic...? Aragorn makes for Gondor, Eowyn is ecstatic, Faramir may just have a heart attack...or he may already be dead...Aragorn checks his pulse... Legolas drops a massive surprise on Eowyn...Dignity is lost...O.O**

_**Elvish Used:**_

_**~Mellon-nin: My Friend**_

_**~Ada/Adar: Dad, Daddy, Father, etc.**_

_**~Tithen Pen/Tithen Penne: Little One/Little Ones**_

_**~Nanneth: Mum, Mother, Mummy, etc.**_

_**~Gwador: Brother**_

_**~Muindor: Sister**_

_**~Ernil: Prince [Tithen Ernil: Princeling!^^]**_

_**~Melleth: Love/Beloved [Melleth-nin: My Love/Beloved]**_

_**~Ellon: Male Elf**_

_**~Ellith: Female Elf**_

_**~Edain/Edan: Man/Humans**_

_**~Perrien: Hobbits**_

_**~Perion: Half-son**_

_**~Ion: Son**_

_**~Saes: Please**_

_**~Hannon le: Thank you**_

_**~Havo Dad: Kill Him/Stop Him**_

_**~Mae Govannon: Greeting...**_


	23. Chapter 22: Half, & Half Again or Broken

**Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of it's characters...if I did, why would Legolas be on that Quest? He'd be here, with me, doing lots of chores...shirtless...*EPIC GRIN***

**This Chapter: The Twin's opinion of Humans falls below zero, Three Linked Souls have a Pow-wow, Gimli hate horses -Arod is no exception... Elladan & Elrohir all but adopt themselves another 'Estel', Faramir may just die of shock...so will Eowyn, Legolas drops a Bombshell on them both... O.O! Aragorn has to check [just to be sure] Faramir hasn't died, standing upright... Eowyn loses her ShieldMaiden Composure...XD Faramir teaches us how to pass out 'masculinely' XD**

**Sneak Peek: " **"Valar, they'd better be bloody alive when I got there or so help me...I'll shove my axe somewhere I fancy you've never even thought possible..." he muttered into his beard, keen eyes peering out ahead **"**

**Sneak Peek the 2nd: "**With that horrifying titbit in the air, she had left the room, absently clutching her stomach, and he had taken a manly moment to make certain she was gone...before passing out...masculinely...on the cold stone floor.

In other words, not on his face...**"**

**ENJOY!^^**

* * *

**Chapter 22: Half, and Half Again.../Broken**

Unsuspectingly, the youth had switched them. Elrohir now lay, bound, close against the repulsive hulk of man-flesh that was Grenadan; normally he was not so uncharitable in his thoughts, but this human _reeked!_

And not just in the way Estel did when he refused to bathe for a week, either. It was more...more like, a tangible scent of evil, a darkness that festered quietly from within and yet was without...a force corrupting the soul from outside the body?

The strange notion was mused upon, but such thoughts were frequently broken as he lifted his head minutely to gaze upon the limp form of Elladan, hung carefully before Thanas, who kept a hand on the Elf's back at all times.

Elrohir had never felt so grateful to a human who was not Estel, until that moment, but it gave a terrible ache to his mind when he tried to find a reasoning for such a kind-hearted child to be amongst such...men...he supposed they could be called that.

Even this badly-done rendition of man at it's most primal...still, _somehow_, deserved the title of 'human'...and for once in his long life, Elrohir was maliciously pleased to add 'mortal' to that definition...

Three minds coalesced and joined on a plane not their own, a brief mingling, a reassurance...then they were gone...

Three bodies began to grow heavier, anchoring their consciousnesses to the 'real world'...but what was reality?

Three soft mouths parted their dry lips in a moan of agony, bodies arching in recognition of pain, both real and shared...

"Come back, child, come to us," a kind, persistent voice summoned her from the darkness, No! She had to...had to...Gasping with the shock of consciousness, her body arched in pain, crying out and feeling the twins move in sympathy. Their presence reassured her, like no other being present could have...

And yet, Atheriel's heart longed for those not present, even as she turned to the compassionate face of Lord Elrond, who stroke her hair and spoke calmly.

Where were the others?

A tear trickled, absently, from a pain-filled ocean of brightest blue, trailing it's unbidden way down the ashen cream of her cheek and falling onto the harsh white sheets.

Gone in an instant, almost as if it had never been there at all...like her fleeting hope.

Grumbling loudly, he picked himself off the ground and brushed the dirt clods from his shaggy beard, eyeing the beast with great disdain; Arod, for his part, appeared to be enjoying his discomfort quite thoroughly.

"Bloody Elf must've taught you to do that..." he muttered under his breath, trudging back over to the animal as the pelting rain whipped at his every inch of exposed flesh. Luckily, thanks to Dwarven practicality, that was not much.

Arod knelt, allowing the sodden creature to re-mount for, probably the fifteenth time since the storm had begun an hour ago, and settled itself on his back. Gimli gave a slight nudge with one heel to indicate he was ready, and Arod took off in blinding pursuit of their elusive prey, once again.

In half a mind to throttle every elf on Arda, Gimli sunk deep into uncharitable thoughts about his Firstborn friends, for they masked the inner anguish he felt when his thoughts turned to the captured Eldar...not to mention a certain half-dead Prince-ling being carried off to Gondor...

Damn them! Damn them ALL, especially those three!

Stupid elves, make him worry for their welfare, blasted creatures had even named him, 'elf-friend', the honorific so casually attached to his name, though its significance far outweighed the word itself.

_Elvellon._

Gimli, son of Gloin, _Elvellon_.

Curse them, he wasn't crying, nay, it was...the rain! That was it! Rain...in his eye...both of them...warm rain, full of desolation...

"Valar, they'd better be bloody alive when I got there or so help me...I'll shove my axe somewhere I fancy you've never even thought possible..." he muttered into his beard, keen eyes peering out ahead, hoping against hope he espied the tiniest scrap of information as to the Rohirrm's whereabouts.

Hands firmly grasping white strands of mane as the horse beneath him galloped across the plains, Gimli bouncing like a sack of potatoes on and off the animal's back.

First thing he was going to do when he got back, teach Legolas what the word 'saddle' stood for...

"_Bloody Elf_," he thought fondly.

Surreptitiously rubbing a hand in gentle circular motions on the quaking back beneath his fingertips, Thanas grew more concerned for the Elf. His brother, nay, twin it seemed, also felt this fear, for the pale one had not moved or made a sound in a day's ride, not even when the pounding rain forced them into the shadowed shelter of Fangorn Forest.

He was uninjured, physically, from what little healing he knew, but..._still_ he remained...

The elf gasped and fell upon his side, thrashing slightly in surprise, a low moan attested to his untraceable ailment; Thanas flinched back, then grasped the slender body slightly around the waist. Making soothing noises too low to be heard by the men only a few meters away, but to elven ears would seem as if normal conversation was taking place, he rubbed the arm slightly -like his Ma had done, when he was young and ill...before...

Green eyes opened and gazed in an unfocused, uncertain manner at him, it was almost disconcerting; the other Elf, from beside him, sat bolt upright at the hip, eyes clearing from the strange state of rest they called 'sleep'.

-At first, it had scared him, forcing him to shake the one called 'Ro, awake, before the Elf had explained in a soft voice that it was as normal to elves, as closing his eyes was to him.

This 'Ro' was by his twin's side in an instant -bound ankles be damned!- a soft smile of gratitude graced his lips as the Elf gazed at the Human, Thanas felt joy stir lethargically within his heart for an instant, before it was gone again.

Soft conversations in another language, he naturally assumed Elvish, flew between the two identical Eldar as he watched, adrenaline settling heavily on tired eyes, he felt his eyelids drop and knew no more.

So caught up on their rapid-fire questioning of one another, one over the strange ailment befalling his brother, the other in sheer confusion as to their location...they failed to notice their tiring companion and jumped in concern as the Youth fell.

Elrohir knelt by the boy in concern, flashes of Estel breaking into his mind unbidden as he eyed the unconscious youth, he calmed his mind as he noticed the even breath that called the human chest to rise and fall, rhythmically.

"He is merely asleep," he whispered to Elladan, who peered in curiosity and fear at the human, "Ah, he has sat up for two nights with you now, I was quite worried, but he bade me sleep. Despite the punishment that awaited him on the morn..."

Elladan frowned in displeasure, he was aware that humans punished disobedient children with their fists -not a practise he approved of- and wondered as to what they would do to this boy. This boy who looked so like Estel had at, from what he estimated, only fifteen summers, lanky in the way of all youths before their true 'change' had finished, hair scruffy and sandy-coloured, with shades of deeper brown.

On the cusp of manhood, but not yet achieved...

His eyes were an interesting shade of amber, defying the uniform brown of the Rohan people, many things did in actuality -his compassion for them, as the foremost reason. Whatever could possibly have stirred such an emotion, when all else reeked of evil and foul intent...it must be the will of the Valar themselves.

Not that he begrudged them, that _specific_ will, he too was growing attached to the boy who cared for them without regards to his own safety...the bruises that marred his temple bore testament. Elladan had gasped in horror as the mottled blueish-purple and sickening yellow monstrosities had been revealed whilst Elrohir had tenderly brushed a lock of hair from the boy's face.

"When- _How_- _**Why**_?" he settled for exclaiming in outrage, reaching out a pale, trembling hand to trace the tableau of torment, as 'Ro gazed down on the human, not facing him directly.

A voice so like his own said the most heart-rending thing he had ever heard -[other than that time Legolas had said '_I have a headache..._' that night in Imladris, when he and Atheriel had been particularly...uh, _amorous_...]- green eyes turned to meet his own,

"He was protecting you, but...fell asleep upon his steed...they are less tolerant of this behaviour in Thanas than in any other, for many were laid low over their mount's necks in half-drunken stupors at the time."

He stroked the hair, absently, then continued, "It was mostly the man who bore me on his steed that struck, again and again, I could do nought and felt so helpless, so guilty...all I could offer was comfort when they threw us to the ground earlier this night. _Ai_, _Elladan_, this is most grievous!" Elrohir was clearly distraught over the Human's actions.

Elladan moved closer, resting upon a nearby trunk which obliged his need for comfort, Elrohir gently tugged Thanas back towards him, settling beside his brother with the boy resting comfortably between them; head cradled within their arms for protection.

Sighing at probably the last moment of peace they would know for a long time, two sets of emerald eyes sank back into the unfocused reverie that was Elven sleep as a pair of amber eyes cracked open in surprise at the sudden tender embrace and the warmth it brought.

Before falling back into contented sleep with a small smile on his face.

_**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*Several Days Earlier...*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**_

Faramir was white as a sheet, unsure whether to rejoice or die of shock.

She paced before him like a lioness, if she had had a tail, it would have been flicking from side to side in annoyance, fear and excitement; she turned to face him, breathless in her revelation. His heart pounded and his mind raced, yet his mouth succeeded in doing exactly...nothing, the Steward of Gondor seemed completely incapable of forcing it to do anything other than gape!

"Well?" she asked, somewhat testily, at his failure to respond.

Faramir just nodded, mouth open in surprise, she smiled, closing it with a soft hand and giving him a peck on the lips, "I know, I was speechless too, when I found out! Isn't it wonderful?"

She..._trilled_?

When had he _ever_ heard Eowyn _trill_ before?

Suddenly, he was very frightened...as if she could read his thoughts, the Shieldmaiden of Rohan laughed, patting him gently on the cheek and said, "Fear not, my gentle warrior, it's only a baby, after all! Though I have heard they are as dangerous as a horde of Orcs..."

With that horrifying titbit in the air, she had left the room, absently clutching her stomach, and he had taken a manly moment to make certain she was gone...before passing out...masculinely...on the cold stone floor.

In other words, not on his face...

Hearing the thunk, Eowyn smiled, glad he had at least kept it together long enough for her to leave the room; she felt rather proud of him, at that moment and couldn't wait to tell the others!

Her brother would be a tricky subject...but when had he ever refused her something -and won- ? He had bade her stay from fighting in the War of the Ring (as had their Uncle) and she had gone anyway, to the victory of good, was this so different?

Shortly there would be another in the Rohan Royal line, boy or girl, it mattered not, for she would teach them to fight! Faramir would insist the child also learn the finer arts of reading and writing, of which she had no objections, but she was strongly going to insist upon riding lessons...

Suddenly, all was chaos, a great clamour rose from the streets below, and she peered from a nearby window to see a single figure galloping up the streets of Minas Tirith upon a very familiar mount, Hasufel.

-She should know, she trained him, herself!

That would mean, Aragorn...but it seemed he clasped a pale figure before himself, the face and most of the body enshrouded in Lothlorien cloak; but she caught a glimpse of blond hair...oh no...for no reason what-so-ever, she began to cry.

Still the figure rode ever-onwards towards the Palace, even as the first of the harsh rain began to pound into the white city...

No time to stop, no time to panic...he told himself to calm down or he would be no use to anybody -especially Legolas- if this continued; Hasufel raced up the main ramp into the Palace, galloping full pelt right into the Throne Room, before arching away from the Throne Dais and bringing himself into a slow trot.

A pale-looking Faramir raced to meet him, slightly confused, Eowyn matching his every stride, pace for pace...in fact, she appeared to be steering him in the right direction...?

No time for that now, he swung down from the horse's flanks and hefted the light Elf in his arms, before turning and striding purposely in the direction of his chambers, his Steward and the Rohirric Shieldmaiden in tow.

Blond hair splayed out as if in a golden halo, crisp white sheets making the Eldar look almost translucent by comparison; Aragorn shuddered in fear, desperately wishing for his father, Lord Elrond. _He_ would know what to do...

As if a switch had been flipped, Aragorn no longer existed, the Ranger within, Strider, rose to the surface again, adopting a Healer's mindset. The wound had ceased to flow as much, blood no longer seeped from the sodden make-shift bandages, an encouraging sign; swiftly he bade a nearby servant bring him hot water and bandages from the Healing Chambers below.

Still, even for an Elf, that was a lot of blood lost to the parched grounds of the Rocky Plains, not to mention how wet the pair had become in those last few moments, whilst Legolas had stayed fairly dry under the cloak, his limp body had been lashed by the rain before he could fully cover him.

Biting a lip in intense concentration, Strider took two steps forward and pulled the Elf's tunics off, tugging at the wrist-guards till they fell in abandon on the grey stone of the floor, catching the licking light of the newly-stirred fire, as it crackled in the grate.

Water hissed from a cauldron hanging over the flames, promising to be ready shortly; the Ranger traced the pale jaw with an absent hand, feeling the weak pulse, the cold skin...but silently rejoicing at the small puffs of warm air that told him his brother was still alive.

Cleansing the horrifying sight of sticky, partially-dried blood from his brother's shoulder, arm and hand with warm water and a strip of his own garment, Strider found the wound to be in the topper-most region of the right shoulder, plunged down on an angle and torn out with fury.

He shuddered despite himself, it still leaked a feeble trickle of crimson, but not as before, in fact it seemed subdued; he took this as a good sign. Calling for herbs from his personal stores -within the Healing Chambers- one of Arwen's future hand-maidens rushed to find the item for him.

-[Hand-picked, each and every one, by himself; he knew that that one -Alissa?- at least would serve her mistress with undying devotion and smiled when he realised he had chosen well...]

Crushing the purple plant into a thick paste, using only some warm water and a mortar and pestle, he applied it to the wound, packing it full; both to ward off infection, promote healing and numb the area, for what he must do next...

Threading the needle, he bade Eowyn look away, and for once, she did as she was asked...? This was a puzzling development...but he pondered it no more as he took to the strenuously delicate task of tying torn elven-flesh together...

Rain thrashed at the shutters, blowing some open in silence-shattering crashes, tearing others off, as was the case within the small room in which he lay; cold air whipped his hair about, cajoling him to consciousness, the rumbling thunder and crack of skyfire luring to the waking world.

Opening his eyes -when had they closed?- he pressed them shut swiftly and arched in agony, even gritted teeth could not suppress the groan that rippled from his throat...

And yet a soft, familiar hand was there, upon his own, another set pressed down firmly upon his chest, settling him to the...bed? When had there been a-?

Gondor.

They were in Gondor, Minas Tirith, the Palace...reality seeped in through the corners of his fractured and aching mind; it was almost too much to bear!

The far-away sound of someone calling forced his unseeing gaze to sharply focus upon the image of Estel, who warmly held his hand within his own, the other pressed lightly at his throat -checking for his life-pulse, no doubt.

Determining the exact nature of the inquiry his brother's silent -though moving- lips were making nearly set the fire at his temples free, it should not be this hard to discern simple words!

"..._on-nin_, hear me, you are safe! Legolas? Can you he-..." Aragorn stated, but was cut off by a bemused Elven Prince who smiled and sharply said, "Yes, _tithen Gwador_, I am _fi_-..."

"Don't say it, Don't. You. Dare. Say It!" growled, -yes _growled_- the Human King...the hand clasping his own suddenly very tight and constrictive; Faramir, for his part -holding the Prince to the bed- looked extremely amused at the whole situation.

It was then Legolas discerned a third presence and looked down, to find the Lady Eowyn...correction, the _glowing_ Lady Eowyn...seated upon the bed by his right hip, legs absently swinging.

She was beaming, and at the current moment -or should he say, in his current _situation_- he could not be certain this was a good thing, or a prequel to some rather malicious intent on her behalf...

For his pat, Legolas chose to believe in the inherent good side of people, by smiling weakly in return; she leapt forwards and all but smothered him, wrapping her arms around his neck in a hug.

That was unexpected... "Uh...Lady Eowyn...?" he asked hesitantly, fearing to break the joyous mood she was seldom in, but spurred on by the gentle snorts of laughter slipping from between the fingers of certain _humans-who-seemed-to-be-taking-a-long-time-yawning..._

"Why didn't you tell me you knew?" she practically screamed into his ear, he flinched a little, well, as best as one can when weak and pinned beneath a human female intent upon simultaneously strangling and smothering him to death out of affection...

"About the babes? I thought you would wish to find out yourse-..." he started, but was cut off as a certain Shieldmaiden drop-kicked her dignity out the window and shrieked, "_**Babe**__-s__? _As in_ PLURAL?_"

Surprised at her reaction, he nodded mutely and gazed up at the woman know sitting astride his [rather tender] chest, mouth agape in surprise and wonder; whereas in the background, Faramir was so white one would automatically assume he was dead...

Apparently this thought occurred to Aragorn, as the man sidled over to the Steward and surreptitiously took his pulse, before clasping him on the back and guiding him to a chair.

Casting a glance over his shoulder, he called to Eowyn, "You may wish to hop off the Elf, especially from that position. My Lady...apart from the fact he probably cannot breathe and is too stubborn to bend the rules of chivalry to tell you...

I do believe you may give your husband-to-be or indeed, any servant who may peer about the door-hrame a reason to be rather confused, a tad jealous and the general wrong idea..."

Realising her precarious positioning, Eowyn slid off and moved over to the shell-shocked Faramir, who was continuously mouthing the word, "Twins", soundlessly; she stroked his hair gently and tried to coax him back to reality.

Legolas was confused, "I am sorry if this news is of ill-timing, I had just assumed...you knew." he stated, with that strange innocence that seemed to ill-fit and yet completely mesh with his ageless appearance and years.

Eowyn looked taken aback by the statement, Aragorn stepped forth to fend off the mildly-put inquiry, "Las, humans...they cannot 'sense' their children in the way Elves can, not until much later on in the pregnancy...and before you ask, it is not sixteen months long, but nine.

Yes," he forestalled some quip about human reproduction and rabbits with a hand, " I know, but if you say that aloud, someone here may kill you.

And it won't be Faramir..."

He hinted, darkly.

* * *

**Hope you Enjoyed!^^**

**Next Chapter: "Chapter 23: Chaos Rides a Purple Horse!" ...Uh...I'll tell you what it's abou the second I finish writing it...**

_**Elvish Used:**_

_**~Mellon-nin: My Friend**_

_**~Ada/Adar: Dad, Daddy, Father, etc.**_

_**~Tithen Pen/Tithen Penne: Little One/Little Ones**_

_**~Nanneth: Mum, Mother, Mummy, etc.**_

_**~Gwador: Brother**_

_**~Muindor: Sister**_

_**~Ernil: Prince [Tithen Ernil: Princeling!^^]**_

_**~Melleth: Love/Beloved [Melleth-nin: My Love/Beloved]**_

_**~Ellon: Male Elf**_

_**~Ellith: Female Elf**_

_**~Edain/Edan: Man/Humans**_

_**~Perrien: Hobbits**_

_**~Perion: Half-son**_

_**~Ion: Son**_

_**~Saes: Please**_

_**~Hannon le: Thank you**_

_**~Havo Dad: Kill Him/Stop Him**_

_**~Mae Govannon: Greeting...**_


End file.
